Storm Trilogy

by Ria Cantrell

  “Yes, well, if that was so, he would have been honest with me. Instead, he has allowed me to find out about this in front of all our wedding guests. He has humiliated me and shamed me.”

  Flashing amber fire at her beleaguered hosts, Bronwyn said, “For what it is worth, I am Drew’s wife. I dunna’ want my family to know of this indiscretion. They would demand Drew’s life for payment and retribution of it. T’is time I show my mettle and put an end to this mess right now.”

  “Go with her, Erik.”

  “Nay! I need no more help from either of ye’. Ye’ have done more than enough,” Bronwyn said sharply. “Nay, this is mine.”

  Bronwyn turned in a rustle of silk and mustering up her courage to face the woman who had deceived her, she squared her shoulders and strode purposefully toward the offending couple. She was not certain when she had been this angry in her entire life.

  Drew had betrayed her. Her friends had lied to her; rather hid things from her, which was as bad if not worse than an out and out lie. Bronwyn succored her anger because if she allowed herself to fall victim to her hurt, she would lose her resolve. She did not want Drew’s blood on her hands despite her anger and heart wrenching hurt. Nay, she would bear this indignity and never let her family know. They would surely want him dead if they knew he had allowed this whore in his bed under her naïve and innocent trusting nose.

  With the bearings of the noblest of ladies, Bronwyn made her way to Drew’s side. She saw that Drew could not have looked unhappier, but she was not going to let that dupe her again. She would deal with him later, but right now she needed to confront this lying harlot face to face.

  Drew looked flustered and angry but Bronwyn did not address that now. She offered her hand to Daria and said, “Dana, isn’t it? Oh that’s right, they tell me you are called Daria. How very kind of you to attend our celebration!”

  None could miss the sarcasm that colored Bronwyn’s greeting.

  Drew looked at Bronwyn incredulously. She had spoken with only a hint of a burr. She sounded positively English. The two women stood face to face and while Drew wanted to protect Bronwyn, he could see there was no need at the moment. His beautiful Scot was going to hold her own against this troublesome specter from his past.

  “Drew and I….”

  “Yes, I know. You were old friends. Funny, he never even so much as mentioned you, though.”

  Drew tried to hide his smirk at the dig from his usually sweet and gentle wife, but like a female bear, if provoked she would protect what was hers and stand her ground bravely. He would not have had her any other way. He adored her fiery resolve, which was tempered with grace. He missed that the dig was meant equally for him as for the woman.

  Daria was not going to be bested by this Scottish cur. She seethed with rising fury as Drew’s wife seemed to squash her like an unwanted pest under her feet. Oh, how dare she treat her with such disdain? She wasn’t even English! She was worse than the filth that lined the gutters. Hatred blazed in Daria’s eyes as she let her cloak fall open briefly. Bronwyn’s gaze could not miss the rounded figure beneath the overly elaborate gown.

  Drew thought he saw a fire ignite in Bronwyn’s eyes with what had previously been a smolder. When Bronwyn glanced at Drew, he saw the unmistakable look of betrayal and hurt. Not making a mention of this new development, Bronwyn said, “Please do enjoy the rest of the banquet. My husband and I have other guests to greet.”

  She wanted to scratch this woman’s eyes out after what she had already pulled and now she was here, daring Bronwyn to mention her obvious delicate condition. Bronwyn would not give her the satisfaction.

  “Nay, I shall be leaving. I have a far journey and I must get a start to get further along.”

  “Yes, it would seem it is already late and you will not be far enough along,” Drew said, insinuating that Daria’s sudden pregnancy was not nearly far enough along to name him as the father. He still did not believe he had actually lain with her when he found her planted in his bed. With a warning or a promise, Bronwyn wasn’t sure which, Daria turned to Drew and said, “You have not heard the last of this, Drew. You best tell your little wifey, here what I have told you. I am sure she will be in for quite a shock as she is so…naïve.”

  “I am not so naïve as you think, Dana. I know all about you and your type.”

  Daria did not like the way the Scottish cur said that. Losing a little of her decorum she railed at Drew, “I will have my say and justice.”

  “I do not know what justice you seek, Dana…oh, excuse me, I meant Daria, but I believe you were told you were not welcomed here. Because it is our joyous day, you will not be removed forcibly as Sir Erik was want to do.”

  Slipping her arm through Drew’s, Bronwyn led him away from the woman who would try to ruin her wedding day and marriage. She did not turn back to see the black mood rising in the woman. Bronwyn had no need to. She could feel her hatred as sure as a physical thing. When they had gotten far enough away, Drew turned slightly, only to see Erik’s men escorting Daria quietly from the grounds. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Bronwyn. “Dunna’ say anything…not one word, Drew, not if I am to maintain the image of yer’ happy bride.”

  Drew was not prepared for the full brunt of Bronwyn’s anger; and worse – her disappointment. Softly he said, “I would not make you pretend for my sake.”

  She turned on him with eyes full of hatred.

  “Yer’ sake? Ye’ think I am pretending for yer’ sake? I am going along with this sham for my sake. I have my pride, too ye’ know. I will not suffer any more humiliation this night. Nay, Andrew Brandham, this is no’ for yer’ sake at all.”

  “I can explain….”

  “Can ye’? Can ye’ explain why ye’ never told me that whore ended up in our bed after we had lain together?”

  Drew was abashed. He had not told her about that because it seemed like a bad idea at the time, and then after he went to Scotland, it seemed to not present itself again. Then he just thought about it no more.

  “I am sorry…I should have told you. I didn’t want to hurt you. I swear I never…”

  “Dunna’ swear. It matters not if ye’ swear. Lies can be sworn same as oaths. Once one lies, there is nothing one can swear to honestly.”

  “Bronwyn please…you have to believe me.”

  “I dunna’ have to do anything. That is, except to stay in a marriage based on falsities and lies, for if I do not, we will not only have the wrath of your crazed king upon us, but ye’ will stand the trial with the Clan. Since ye’ have marked yerself’ as Clan, this will be deemed betrayal of one of yer’ own.”

  “I will explain it to them, and then…they will understand.”

  “Understand? Ye’ have been schooled in many things, but not all of the ways of Clan. Betrayal of one’s own clan is punishable by death. It is like an act of treason. Lairds are likened to kings. Ye’ will bring down the wrath and punishment of the High Chief and Laird of Clan MacCollum and force my father’s hand to see ye’ killed. He will have no choice but to exact the punishment for such a betrayal.”

  Bronwyn forced back a sob. She would not cry again in front of this man. She broke from his hold and stalked away from him. She did not even think she could stand his touch for one more moment. Turning back just one more time, she said, “That babe is yers’ I take it?”

  “So she claims, but I think she is lying…”

  “I thought so. Well, what a wonderful legacy for the bairn. Both father and mother well trained in the art of deceit.”

  Drew tried to take Bronwyn’s hand but she snatched it away.

  “Dunna’ think to touch me! Andrew Brandham. I’ll not have it.”

  With that, Bronwyn left Drew standing there, alone. He did not know what he was supposed to do now. The hall was filled with guests and revelers. Oh, and lest he forget the MacCollum beasts who would surely like to rip him limb from limb. He watched as Bronwyn was greeted by his own mother and he held his breath.
Instead, he saw Bronwyn paste a false smile on her beautiful lips and walk off with his mother.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Elizabeth Brandham approached her beautiful new daughter-in-law. She noticed a sadness and sense of anger coursing through her. What in the world was wrong? Touching her shoulder, she saw Bronwyn fix a smile on her face. She asked, “Is something amiss, Daughter?”

  “Oh, nay. I am just tired, I suppose. It has been quite a long day.”

  Bronwyn could not tell Drew’s mother what was wrong. She would have to play the part of the devoted blushing bride a few more hours. She was almost numb with the horrid scene she had just taken part of. She saw her brothers dancing and laughing and her heart was filled with sadness.

  How she longed to go to them and beg them to take her home! How she longed for Rory to give Drew that beating he so very much deserved, but she knew it would not just be a well-deserved thrashing. They would declare Drew a traitor to the clan and an enemy. They would call for his death, not just a simple beating. So she put an insincere smile on her face and tried to get through the remainder of the travesty that had become her wedding day.

  “Well, that is why I was looking for you, child. T’is time to prepare for your wedding night. Come with us. We will get you ready for your handsome groom.”

  Damn! She had forgotten all about that. Oh dear God, she felt sick to her stomach. How was she going to get out of this, now? She searched for her brothers again and saw them watching, with big knowing grins. She felt heat flood her face. Bronwyn caught her father’s sad smile. His eyes told her that he had quietly resigned that her past as his little girl was done. She belonged to another now. Caleb lifted a tankard to her in a quiet salute and he turned away to join the men in their revelry.

  Bronwyn wanted to cry out, “Daddy, please dunna’ leave me here with these people…they are all liars and dupers. Daddy please, I am still yer’ little girl…take me away from this horrible place…” but instead, she allowed Lady Elizabeth to clasp her hand and lead her to her bridal chamber. It felt more like being led to an execution than to her wedding night with a man she was supposed to love.

  She was joined with other women and well-wishers. Bronwyn felt like she was in a daze, and she barely noticed the women closing the door behind her once she had arrived inside the room she had shared with Drew. While the women chattered and laughed, Bronwyn stood as one viewing a scene from outside a window.

  She was vaguely aware of the women unlacing her out of her gown, until it started to slide away from her body. Clasping the gown to herself, she suddenly felt like she could not breathe. With eyes wide, Bronwyn nearly panicked as gentle fingers pried her gown out of her hands. Drew’s mother whispered softly, “Breathe, child. You look terrified.”

  Bronwyn faced her and she said, “Can ye’ please have these women leave?”

  “Shhh, it is part of the bedding ceremony. They are here to help and to celebrate with you. Don’t be afraid.”

  Bronwyn did not know how she could endure any more humiliation this night. She suddenly felt like she had no more allies in the entire world; certainly not in this world. Her own husband, the only man she had ever loved and trusted, was no better than her enemy now. One of the women who had joined in the bedding party, said, “The lass looks positively stricken. Has no one told her of the joys of the marriage bed?”

  Bronwyn turned to see who had spoken these words and she wondered if this woman, too, had sampled Drew’s attentions. Suddenly the room seemed too small; a room filled with women who were mocking her, a room filled with women who had quite possibly shared her husband’s bed.

  Seeing the look of fright and distress in Bronwyn’s face, Elizabeth said, “Alright, alright. Out with all of you. When I have her dressed and settled in her bed, I will call you back in. Perhaps her customs are different than ours. Let’s not frighten her this night. Go.”

  With groans of disappointment the women left. Only Rhianna and Elizabeth remained.

  “Would you rather just Rhianna help you, child? I will wait with the other women.”

  With a glare of disdain toward Rhianna, Bronwyn said, “Nay. Just ye’ stay, my lady. I dunna’ have my own mother to aid me. Will ye’ please help me?”

  “Of course, Dear. Rhianna, leave us for a few moments. I am sure that ribald bunch of magpies made her nervous.” Rhianna curtseyed and left without a word.

  “Now then, I am honored that you would choose me to help as you would have your own beloved mother. Let’s get you into this beautiful night shift. It is made from the finest lawn and it so sheer; it appears as the fae gave their very own wings to make it for you. Come give it a try.”

  Bronwyn felt blush stain her cheeks as if she was indeed still an untried virgin. Drew’s mother helped her out of her wedding dress and eased the soft nightrail over her head. Sheer was not even the word to describe it. It was positively transparent. As if reading her mind, Drew’s mother said, “Now you are not to worry. We will have you tucked into bed before another soul comes into the room. The only person to see you in this will be Drew. Come sit a moment by the fire to get warm while I brush your hair.”

  Bronwyn went woodenly to the stool by the fire. She prayed that the gorge would not rise in her throat again and she willed herself to sit still while Drew’s mother passed the brush through the locks of her hair. Drew’s mother said, “Ah, you are lovely, Bronwyn. My son will be very happy when he sees you.”

  Bronwyn could not reply. She still felt like she was being led to the gallows rather than the joys of her marriage bed.

  Lady Elizabeth handed Bronwyn a jeweled goblet filled with sweet spiced mead. She said, “Take a sip of that, Dear. You are shivering.”

  Bronwyn’s icy fingers clasped around the stem of the goblet and she took a deep gulp of the liquid that sent pools of warmth coursing into her stomach. Elizabeth took the goblet away for a moment and then drew back the bed covers. Fresh sheets sprinkled with fragrant smelling herbs invited Bronwyn to slip inside.

  Elizabeth plumped up the pillows and showed Bronwyn into the bed. Once she was propped up, Elizabeth pulled the covers up to Bronwyn’s chest and handed the goblet back to her. “Take another sip, but do not gulp it. Too much too fast can make the room spin.”

  The room was already spinning. Her head was spinning. She did not even want to see Drew, let alone have his hands touch her. She knew her traitorous body would succumb to him and all would be lost. He would think that she acquiesced when in reality she was thinking of ways to leave him once and for all.

  Lady Elizabeth leaned down and kissed the cheek of the woman who was her son’s new bride. She said, “You are beautiful. You need not look so frightened. Drew would never hurt you.”

  He has more than hurt me…he has gutted my heart and thrown it to the wolves.

  “Thank ye’, my lady, for yer’ unending kindness to me.”

  Bronwyn was sad to take advantage of this woman’s kindness knowing that she planned to leave Drew as soon as she could arrange it. She would wait the proper time and then write home and feign homesickness and tell them Drew was on a campaign.

  Once she was home she would never return to England again. She would never see Drew again. Even thinking these thoughts brought tears to her eyes. It should not hurt to think it; he had betrayed her after all, but hurt it did.

  Seeing the tears form in the beautiful young woman’s eyes, Elizabeth said, “There, there, it will be alright. You have just had so much happen in the last few days. Drew will always be with you.”

  A single tear crept down Bronwyn’s face. Elizabeth patted her hand and she said, “Come now, it is all in fun. No one will shame you. Shall I let the others in?”

  Bronwyn’s eyes pleaded silently, no…please dunna’ have them share my shame…but instead she just nodded mutely.

  Elizabeth kissed her again. She said, “Be happy, daughter. We will be returning home after tomorrow and I know you will be busy with bridal and wedding obligations.
Drew’s father and I will look forward to visits from you. Mayhap, even with a few wee grand-babes, in tow.”

  She winked and went to open the door. Bronwyn’s heart fell thinking about how there would probably be no babes, except that of Daria’s. She did not want to think that she would not see this gentle lady again; because that threatened more tears that she could not afford to shed.

  The door swung open and both men and women poured into the room to get a glimpse of the blushing bride in the sheerest of gowns. Her brothers bore Drew in on their shoulders and dropped him not so gently onto the bed. There were ribald jests of “long swords” finding a home in “velvet sheaths” and such. All of which, made Bronwyn cringe.

  She clasped the bedding to her neck until her knuckles were white. Those present just attributed it to her supposed innocence. They had no idea she had not only long lost the physical innocence of maidenhood, but also the innocence of her soul along with it this very night. She would never be so naïve again.

  At long last, the revelers were ushered out, leaving Bronwyn and Drew finally alone with each other.

  Drew tried to kiss her, but she turned her face and offered her cheek only to him. She turned on her side away from him so he could only view her back. He sighed and said, “Will you at least speak to me?”

  “I have nothing left to say to ye’. I am yer’ wife now and that is my lot in life. As for words, there are no words to speak to ye’ now.”

  “Bronwyn, please. Let me explain.”

  “Explain? And is now the time to explain, now that yer’ ruse is discovered? Nay, please dunna’ bother.”

  Drew touched her shoulder. She bit her lip and willed herself not to react to his touch. She had been such a fool. She was not going to be one this night. His fingers touched the soft transparent fabric covering her arms. Regret and guilt plagued him. Drew thought, if only she lets me touch her, she will realize my love for her. If I can love her, she will understand I would never betray her.

  He turned her toward him and he pulled the covers away from her body. His breath caught in his throat with a hitch. The fabric made her skin look as if it was adorned solely by moonbeams alone. She was exquisite, even in her glorious anger toward him. He whispered, “You are my wife, now. You must not deny me.”