The Bride

by Julie Garwood

  “For the last several hours you’ve snapped out orders like a commander on a field of battle, Jamie. Now you act shy with me. What has caused this change?”

  “You,” Jamie replied. “You make me shy when you stare at me like that.”

  “’Tis good to know.”

  “No, it certainly is not good to know,” Jamie muttered. She snatched the goblet out of his hands, hurried over to Angus’s side, and nagged her patient into drinking the full portion.

  “I want you to wear my plaid,” Alec said.

  “What?”

  “I want you to wear my colors, wife.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you belong to me now,” Alec patiently explained.

  “I’ll wear your plaid when my heart wants to belong to you, Kincaid, and not a minute sooner. What think you of that?”

  “I could order you to—”

  “But you won’t.”

  Alec smiled. His gentle little wife was beginning to understand him, after all. But he was also learning just how her mind worked. The foolish woman didn’t realize her heart had already softened toward him. Still, he wanted her to admit it. “Did you mean what you said to Elizabeth? Would you have stayed by my side if I’d been wounded?”

  “Of course.”

  She didn’t even look over her shoulder when she added, “You can rid yourself of that cocky smile, husband. Any wife would stay by her husband. It’s her duty.”

  “And you would always do your duty.”

  “I would.”

  “I will give you two weeks to make up your mind, Jamie, but you will eventually wear my plaid.”

  While he watched Jamie, the truth nudged a rather contradictory admission from him. He actually wanted her to care for him. He wanted her to love him. He was, however, quite determined not to love her. His reason was simple: a warrior did not love his wife; he owned her. There was good reason for this, of course: love complicated a relationship. It could also undermine the duties of a laird. No, he could never love Jamie. But he’d be damned if she didn’t start to love him soon.

  “Two weeks.”

  She didn’t need that reminder. “You are very arrogant, husband.”

  “’Tis good of you to notice.”

  Alec left the hall before she could stifle her laughter enough to bait him again. His soldiers would be waiting in the courtyard and the bailey below, wishing to hear how their friend was doing. Several hundred men were keeping Angus’s deathwatch. They wouldn’t take to their pallets until they’d come inside to see their friend. It was their right, and Alec wouldn’t deny them.

  Angus was just waking up from his drug-induced sleep when Jamie was closing her eyes. She knelt on the floor, her feet tucked under the hem of her robe. Her long hair was spread like a blanket across her back. Angus groaned when he tried to move his throbbing arm. He wanted to rub the sting away, yet when he tried to move his other hand, he felt someone take hold of him.

  He opened his eyes and immediately saw the woman. Her head rested next to his thigh. Her eyes were closed. He didn’t know how he knew, but he was certain her eyes were violet, clear, enchanting violet.

  Angus thought she was asleep, yet when he tried to pull his hand away from her grasp, she wouldn’t let him.

  The soldiers began to file into the hall then, drawing his attention. His friends were all smiling at him. Angus tried to return their greeting. He was in pain, aye, but their smiles told him he was not dying. Perhaps, he thought, the last rites he’d overheard were for someone else.

  Alec, with Gavin at his side, stood near the entrance, waiting. Alec stared at his wife, but Gavin watched the men.

  It was a magical moment, by Gavin’s reckoning. The soldiers looked stunned by the sight they witnessed. One and all knew Lady Kincaid had saved their friend from certain death. Angus’s weak smile confirmed the miracle.

  The hall could only hold a third of their number, yet when the first man knelt down and bowed his head, the others followed his lead, until even the soldiers outside were kneeling.

  It was a united show of loyalty, Alec knew, but it wasn’t for Angus that the soldiers knelt. No, Angus was their equal. They wouldn’t kneel before him. The soldiers were now giving Lady Kincaid their loyalty, their complete trust.

  And his wife slept through their silent pledge.

  “I boasted it would take her a long time to earn their trust,” Gavin told Alec. “I was wrong. It has taken her less than one day.”

  Marcus, with his sister Edith, walked into the hall just as the last of the soldiers filed past. They waited by Gavin’s side, until Elizabeth, holding on to Annie’s hand, caught up with them.

  “Do you see, Annie? I told you Angus was better. Look how he’s smiling.” Elizabeth whispered her happy news, then dropped Annie’s hand to rush forward to her husband’s side.

  “Lady Kincaid saved Angus,” Gavin told Marcus. “’Tis a time for joy, my friend, not anger. Why do you frown so?”

  “Angus would have made it with or without Lady Kincaid’s assistance. It was God’s decision, not hers.”

  The harshness in his tone turned Alec’s attention to him. “You do not accept my wife, Marcus?” he asked, his voice deceptively mild.

  The warrior immediately shook his head. “I accept her because she’s your wife, Alec, and I would protect her with my life,” he added. “But she won’t win my loyalty so easily.”

  Anna and Edith stood by Marcus’s side, mimicking his frown as they listened to the conversation. Alec looked at each one, then spoke again. “All of you will make her welcome. Do you understand me?”

  The women immediately nodded their compliance. Marcus took a bit longer to agree. “Have you forgotten our Helena so soon, Alec?”

  “It’s been almost three years,” Gavin interjected.

  “I haven’t forgotten,” Alec announced.

  “Then why—”

  “I married to please my king, Marcus, and you damn well know it. Before you turn your back on my wife, remember this, all of you. Jamie also married by command from her king. She didn’t want this marriage any more than I did. Honor her for doing her duty.”

  “She really didn’t wish to marry you?” Annie asked. Her brown eyes mirrored her surprise.

  Alec shook his head. “The only reason I discuss such matters with you, Annie, is because of your sister, Helena. Jamie was pledged to another man. Why would she want to marry me?”

  “The English dislike us as much as we dislike them,” Gavin interjected.

  “Your wife doesn’t know how fortunate she is,” Annie shyly interjected.

  Alec smiled at the sincerity in Annie’s voice. He left the three staring after him as he walked over to his sleeping wife and gently lifted her into his arms. He held her close against his chest.

  Gavin followed behind, thinking to take over the watch by Angus’s side.

  “I wonder, Alec, how long it’s going to take your wife to accept us?” he remarked.

  “Little time at all,” Alec predicted. He started toward his bed, then called over his shoulder, “She’ll settle in, Gavin. You’ll see.”

  Chapter Eleven

  She started three wars the first week.

  Jamie’s intentions were quite honorable. She’d decided to make the best of her situation, accepting the fact that she was married to a laird now. She would do her duty as his wife and take care of him and his household. No matter how difficult the adjustment might be for Alec, she wouldn’t shirk her obligations.

  In the back of her mind was a glimmer of hope that while she was busy tending to her new duties, she would also start making a few necessary changes. Why, if she really put her mind to it, she might even be able to civilize these Highlanders.

  The wars, coming one atop the other, actually crept up on Jamie. She wasn’t about to take the blame for instigating any of the conflicts. No, the blame belonged to the Scots, their ridiculous customs, their stubborn nature, and most especially, their unbending pride.
Was it her fault none of these barbarians ever made a bit of sense?

  Jamie slept past the nooning meal the day after she patched up Angus. She thought she deserved the long rest until she remembered it was Sunday and she’d missed mass. It was a duty to attend the service, and the realization that no one had bothered to wake her up irritated her. Now she was going to have to use one of her shillings to buy an indulgence.

  She dressed in a cream-colored chemise and a ruby-colored bliaut, then draped a braided belt around her waist ever so loosely so it would rest on her hips, as was the fashion these days. She might not have gone to court, but she kept up with the newest styles, even though it was a bother. Still, she didn’t want the Scots thinking she was just an ignorant country girl. She was their laird’s wife now and must always look fashionable. She brushed her hair, gave her cheeks a good pinch for color, and went to see how her patient was doing. If all was well with Angus, she would find the priest and put the matter of her sin in his hands.

  She dreaded the coming penance.

  Luck was on her side, however. Not only was Angus sleeping peacefully, but the priest was also in the hall. He was taking his turn sitting beside the warrior.

  The priest started to stand when he saw Jamie approaching. “Pray stay seated, Father,” Jamie requested with a smile.

  “We’ve not been properly introduced,” the priest announced. “I’m Father Murdock, Lady Kincaid.”

  It was still difficult to understand him. The priest’s voice was as thin as his hair. The soft burr in his speech only added to the problem. He sounded in dire need of a good cough. Jamie resisted her urge to cough for him.

  “Has the pain in your chest let up, Father?” she asked.

  “It has, milady, it surely has,” Father Murdock answered. “I haven’t slept so well in many a night. That potion you gave me turned the trick.”

  “I’d like to make a salve for you to rub on your chest,” Jamie said. “We’ll have that cough gone by week’s end.”

  “Thank you, lass, for taking the time to help this old man.”

  “I must warn you, Father, the stench in this paste will make your friends keep well away from you.”

  Father Murdock smiled. “I shall not mind.”

  “Has Angus been resting well?”

  “He’s sleeping now, but earlier Gavin had to restrain him. Angus was trying to tear the bandages off his bad arm. Elizabeth was so distressed she wanted to awaken you. Gavin ordered her to bed.”

  Jamie frowned over this news while she studied the warrior’s swollen fingers. The color was good enough to please her. She put her hand on his brow next. “The fever didn’t catch hold of him,” she announced. “Your prayers have saved him, Father.”

  “Nay, lass,” the priest contradicted. “You are the one who saved him. God must have decided to let Angus stay with us, and in his wisdom he sent you here to tend to him.”

  His praise embarrassed her. “Well, he sent you a sinner,” she blurted out, wanting to get the dreaded business over. “I missed mass this morning,” she explained after she’d pressed a shilling in his hand. “Please accept this coin for an indulgence.”

  “But mistress—”

  “Now, Father, before you decide upon my penance. I would like to explain my reasons. I wouldn’t have missed mass if Alec had wakened me,” she said. Her hands settled on her hips and she tossed her hair back over her shoulder in a gesture Father Murdock found enchanting. A frown worried her brow. “Come to think of it, this really should be Alec’s sin, too. What think you of that?”

  The priest didn’t answer her soon enough. “Do you know,” she continued, “the more I reflect on this problem, the more I become convinced Alec should be the one giving you his coin. Why, this is really his sin.”

  Father Murdock was having difficulty following her train of thought. He felt as though a whirlwind had just filled the room. A whirlwind with the sun shining through. The priest wanted to laugh with sheer joy. The gloom that had hovered over Alec’s home since Helena’s death would leave now. He was sure of it. He’d seen the way his laird watched his wife all during the night while she worked on Angus. He’d looked just as surprised as the rest of them . . . and just as pleased.

  “Father?” Jamie asked. “What think you of my worry?”

  “Neither one of you has sinned.”

  “We haven’t?”

  Father Murdock smiled over the surprise his statement had caused. Lady Kincaid looked flabbergasted. “You’re very devout, aren’t you, Lady Kincaid?”

  It would have been a sin to let the priest think that. “Oh, heavens no,” she said hurriedly. “I cannot let you believe such a lie. It’s just that our priest back home . . . well, he is most devout, and I must tell you his penances are usually bloody awful. I think boredom led him to be strict. He made Agnes cut her hair once. She cried for a week.”

  “Agnes?”

  “One of my dear sisters,” Jamie explained.

  “It must have been a terrible sin,” Father Murdock remarked.

  “She fell asleep during one of his sermons,” Jamie confessed.

  The priest tried not to laugh. “We’re not so rigorous here,” he advised. “I promise I will never make you cut your hair, Lady Kincaid.”

  “What a shame you didn’t live with us then,” Jamie interjected. “Agnes’s hair hasn’t curled since she was forced to cut it.”

  “How many are there in your family?” the priest asked.

  “There were five of us, all girls, but the eldest, Eleanor, died when I was just seven, so I don’t remember her very well. The twins, Agnes and Alice, came next, then Mary, and I’m the baby. Papa raised us mostly by himself,” she added with a gentle smile.

  “A sound family it seems to me,” the priest remarked with a nod. “Are your sisters as pretty as you are?”

  “Oh, much prettier,” Jamie stated. “Mama was fat with me when she married Papa. He’d lost his wife, you see, and Mama had lost her husband right after she’d married him. It made no matter to Papa though. I became his baby as soon as he wed Mama.”

  “A good man,” Father Murdock commented.

  “Yes,” Jamie agreed with a sigh. “Just mentioning my family makes me miss them.”

  “Then we won’t speak of this any longer,” Father Murdock advised. “Take this coin back, please, and put it to better use.”

  “I’d rather you kept the shilling. My husband’s soul could surely use some attention. He’s a laird, after all, and has had to kill men in battle. Do not misunderstand me, Father, for Alec would never, ever take a life without a good reason. Though I don’t know him as well as you do, I do believe he wouldn’t go looking for trouble. In my heart I know this is true. You must take my word on this matter, Father.”

  Alec walked into the hall just in time to overhear his wife’s defense of his character.

  “I agree with you, lass,” the priest answered. He glanced up and saw the exasperated look on his laird’s face. He had trouble restraining his chuckle.

  “Well, now,” Jamie said, her sigh of relief evident. “I’m pleased you agree. Though it’s shameful of me to admit, I do get tired of having to think about my soul all the time. Father Charles made us confess every thought. ’Tis the truth there were times I made up a few just to appease the man. He’s a most conscientious priest and we did lead a very sedate life. Nothing sinful ever happened.”

  Father Murdock thought the priest sounded like a fanatic. “We’re much more relaxed here, Lady Kincaid.”

  “I’m pleased to hear this,” Jamie returned. “Now that I’m married, I must also take care of my husband’s soul, and if that isn’t enough to turn my hair gray, I don’t know what is. Father, I do believe we shall become good friends. You must begin by calling me Jamie, don’t you suppose?”

  “What I suppose, Jamie, is that you have a gentle heart. You’re just the breath of fresh air this cold old castle is needing.”

  “Aye, Father, she does have a gentle hear
t,” Alec interjected. “She’ll have to try to overcome that flaw.”

  “Having a gentle heart isn’t a flaw.”

  Jamie was thankful she’d made that emphatic statement while still looking at the priest, for once she turned around to confront her husband, she wasn’t able to speak at all. She gasped instead.

  Alec was half naked.

  Alec was dressed like a barbarian. He wore a white shirt but that was the only civilized garment covering his huge body. The shirt was partially covered by the end of his plaid draped over his shoulder. The rest of his plaid was wrapped around his waist. It was folded into wide pleats, held in place by a narrow roped belt, and fell only to mid-thigh. Black boots, that were gray in the worn places, covered only a part of his muscular legs.

  His knees were as bare as a baby’s arse.

  Alec thought she looked ready to faint. He hid his irritation while he patiently waited for her to get accustomed to his attire, then said, “How’s Angus doing?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  She was still staring at his knees. “Angus,” Alec repeated a bit more forcefully.

  “Oh, yes, Angus, of course,” she answered, nodding several times.

  When she didn’t say another word, Alec commanded, “You’ll look at my face when I speak to you, wife.”

  Jamie was startled by the harshness in his rebuke. She quickly did as he had ordered.

  Alec was sure her blush could start a fire. “How long do you think it’s going to take you to get used to seeing me dressed this way?” he asked, his exasperation obvious.

  She recovered quickly. “What way?” she asked, smiling innocently.

  A wry grin softened his mouth. “Will I always have to repeat myself to you?”

  She shrugged her answer. “Was there something you wanted to speak to me about?” she asked.

  He decided to embarrass her again. “Wife, you’ve seen me without any clothes on, yet now you act—”

  She rushed over and clapped her hand over his mouth. “I’ve felt you naked, husband. I’ve not seen you naked. There is a difference,” she added. She dropped her hand when she realized what she’d just done, then backed up a space. “Remember your manners in front of the priest, Alec.”