The Bride

by Julie Garwood

  He rolled his eyes heavenward. She thought he was praying for patience. “Now tell me what it is you wished to say to me.”

  “I want to speak to Angus,” Alec answered. He started toward the bed, but Jamie stepped directly into his path, blocking his way. Her hands were settled on her hips again.

  “He’s sleeping now, Alec. You may speak to him later.”

  He couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “Wake him.”

  “Your roar probably just did,” she muttered.

  He took a deep breath. “Wake him,” he ordered again. In a softer tone of voice, he added, “And, Jamie?”

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t ever tell me what I may or may not do.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?”

  Before she could find the courage to answer him she had to remind herself that her husband had promised never to lose his temper with her. The look on his face was chilling. “Why must I never tell you what you may or may not do?”

  She knew he didn’t like her question. His jaw was clenched now. The muscles in his cheeks flexed once, then again. She wondered if her husband had always had this nervous affliction or if it was of recent origin.

  “’Tis the way it’s done here,” Father Murdock blurted out.

  The priest wheezed his way out of his chair and rushed over to stand next to Lady Kincaid. His worry was well founded. He’d known Alec Kincaid for long years, recognized that look in his eyes all too well, and sought to intervene in Jamie’s behalf before Alec’s temper exploded. In time, Jamie would surely learn the perils of questioning such a powerful man. Until then, the priest decided he would have to watch out for her. “The lass has only been here a short time, Alec. Surely she doesn’t mean to challenge you.”

  Alec nodded. Jamie shook her head. “I do so mean to challenge him, Father, though I don’t wish to sound insolent. I would simply like him to explain why I can’t tell him what to do. He tells me often enough.”

  She had the audacity to look disgruntled with him. “I’m your husband and your laird, wife. Are those two reasons sufficient for you?”

  The muscle in his jaw flexed again. Jamie was fascinated by it. She wondered what potion she could give him to rid him of that affliction, then decided that since he was glaring at her, she wouldn’t bother.

  “Well?” Alec demanded, taking a threatening step toward her.

  She didn’t retreat an inch. God’s truth, she took a step toward him. Alec was amazed. He’d been known to send grown men running for safety, but this slip of a woman was boldly trying to stand up to him.

  Hell, he admitted with a growl, she was standing up to him.

  The priest once again tried to intervene. “Lady Kincaid, dare you incite him to anger?”

  “Alec won’t lose his temper with me,” Jamie announced, her gaze directed on her husband. “Alec is a very patient man.” Because she was looking at Alec, she missed the priest’s astonished expression.

  “He gave me his word, Father. He would never break it.”

  God, how she was baiting him. Alec couldn’t make up his mind if he wanted to strangle her or kiss her. “Do you make me regret my promise to you, wife?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t. Your attitude does give me concern, though. How are we ever going to get along if you don’t learn to bend? Alec, I’m your wife. Doesn’t my position allow for telling you—”

  “It does not,” Alec announced, his voice as hard as rock. “And if there’s any bending to be done around here, you’ll be the one doing it. Do I make myself clear?”

  The look on his face suggested she not argue with him. Jamie ignored it. “A wife may not even give her opinion?”

  “She may not.” Alec let out a long sigh before continuing. “I can see you don’t understand the way we do things here, Jamie, and for that reason I’ll excuse your insolent behavior today. But in future—”

  “I wasn’t being insolent,” Jamie countered. “I just want to get this straight in my inferior mind. Tell me this, please,” she added. “What are my duties as your wife? I would like to begin as soon as possible.”

  “You don’t have any duties.”

  She reacted as though he’d just struck her. Alec saw the flash of true anger in her eyes when she took a step away from him. He didn’t know what to make of such an odd reaction. Didn’t she know how considerate he was being?

  He guessed she didn’t know when she gave him yet another insolent remark.

  “Every wife has duties, even those with opinions.”

  “You don’t.”

  “By Scotland’s law or by yours?”

  “Mine,” he answered. “You’ll rid yourself of those calluses on your palms, Jamie. You will not be a slave here.”

  She let out an outraged gasp. “Are you suggesting I was a slave back home?”

  “You were a slave.”

  “I wasn’t,” she returned in a near shout. “Am I so unimportant to you that you won’t let me find my place here, Alec?”

  He didn’t answer her, for in truth he didn’t know what in God’s name she was ranting about.

  Angus was awakened by a hard command from his laird, then questioned in rapid Gaelic. The injured warrior’s mind was surprisingly clear. Though his voice was weak, he was able to answer Alec’s questions in a concise manner. When his laird finished his inquisition, Angus managed a smile and asked if he might go along on the hunt.

  Alec denied the offer with a grin. Jamie heard him tell the soldier that as soon as he was feeling better, he’d have him moved to his own cottage, where his wife could look after him.

  He started to leave the hall without speaking to his wife again, but Jamie chased after him. “Alec?”

  “What is it?” he snapped, turning around to confront her again.

  “In England it’s proper conduct for a husband to give his wife a morning kiss,” she lied. She’d made up that dictate but felt certain he didn’t know that.

  “We’re not in England.”

  “It’s proper everywhere,” she muttered.

  “It’s proper here when the wife wears her husband’s plaid.”

  “So that’s the way of it, is it?”

  “My hearing is quite sound, wife. You needn’t raise your voice to me.”

  Alec kept his expression hard. It was a difficult effort. Her disappointment was obvious. She wanted him to touch her. Alec decided he had just acquired the edge he needed over her. He didn’t feel the least bit remorseful using their physical attraction to each other to his own advantage and was actually disappointed with himself for not having thought of it sooner. She’d be wearing his plaid by the end of the week, he estimated, especially if he refused to touch her in the meantime.

  “Alec, where may I keep my coins safe?” she asked.

  “There’s a box on the mantel behind you,” he answered. “Put your shillings with the other coins if you want.”

  “May I borrow some of your coins if I have need?” she asked.

  “I don’t care,” he told her over his shoulder.

  She frowned at Alec’s back, irritated because he hadn’t even bothered to say good-bye, then wondered what he was up to when he reached up and claimed his sword from the wall.

  “Do you know where he’s going, Father?” she asked after Alec had left the hall.

  “Hunting,” Father Murdock answered as he resumed his seat next to Angus.

  “But not for game for our supper?”

  “Nay, lass. He hunts the men who did this to Angus. When he finds them, they won’t come away so fortunate.”

  Jamie knew such retaliation was considered honorable by a warrior’s standards. Still, she didn’t like it. Not at all. Violence only gave birth to more of the same, didn’t it? It was yet another topic she and her husband were never going to agree on.

  Jamie let out a resigned sigh. “I shall go and fetch some more coins for you,” she told the priest. “God only knows how many indulgences that man’s going to
need by day’s end.”

  Father Murdock held his smile. He wondered if Alec realized how well he’d chosen. “There are going to be fires aplenty blazing in our mountains,” he told Angus, ignoring the fact that the warrior appeared to be sleeping again.

  “’Tis the truth you speak,” Angus whispered.

  “Did you listen to the way Alec and his bride shouted at each other? If your eyes had been open, you would have seen the sparks.”

  “I heard.”

  “What think you of your savior, Angus?”

  “She’ll make him crazed.”

  “It’s time.”

  Angus nodded. “Aye, it’s time. The Kincaid has had enough pain.”

  “He doesn’t know what to make of her. I can tell by the way he watches her.”

  “Is she going to give you a coin every time Alec irritates her?”

  “I believe so.”

  Father Murdock let out a rich chuckle as he slapped his knee. “She’s going to have a time of it fitting into our way of life. Yet it’s going to be a joy for this old man to watch.”

  Jamie returned to the priest, handed him two more coins, and asked him why he was smiling.

  “I was thinking of all the changes you’re going to have to make, lass,” the priest admitted. “I know it won’t be easy on you, but in time you’ll come to love this clan as much as I do.”

  “Have you considered, Father, that it just might be the clan making all these changes?” Jamie asked, her eyes alight with mischief.

  The priest thought she was jesting with him. “I fear you’ve set yourself an impossible goal,” he told her with a snort of enjoyment.

  “How impossible, do you suppose?” she asked. “As impossible as eating a giant bear all by myself?”

  “Aye, just as impossible.”

  “I could do it.”

  “How?” the priest asked, falling nicely into her trap.

  “One bite at a time.”

  Father Murdock slapped his knee again and let out a whoop of laughter, which was followed by a fit of coughing. Jamie hurried to her bedroom area, mixed the foul-smelling salve she’d promised him, and went back to his side. “You must wait an hour or two for this to settle before you rub it on your chest, Father.”

  The priest accepted her offering with a frown. “It smells like the dead, lass.”

  “The smell isn’t important, Father. I promise it will help your cough.”

  “I believe you, Jamie.”

  “Father? Do you think Alec would mind if I had a look upstairs?”

  “Of course not, lass. This is your home now.”

  “Are the rooms occupied?”

  The priest shook his head.

  “Then I should be able to move my things up to one of the rooms, shouldn’t I?”

  “You’re wanting to move your . . . Lass, Alec won’t like you leaving him.”

  “It’s Alec I’m thinking about,” Jamie countered. “There isn’t any privacy down here, Father. I’m sure he’ll be much more comfortable in one of the rooms upstairs. You’ll put the question to him for me, won’t you?”

  He couldn’t refuse her request. Lady Jamie had the most enchanting smile. “I’ll ask,” he promised.

  Father Murdock was content to sit by Angus’s side and rest. He was almost asleep when the screech of metal scraping against stone drew his attention. He turned toward the noise and saw Lady Jamie struggling with a large chest. She was pushing the piece of furniture out of the first bedroom at the top of the stairs.

  The priest hurried across the hall and up the steps. “What are you trying to do, Jamie?” he asked.

  “I thought I’d use the front bedroom, Father,” Jamie answered. “It has a nice, wide window.”

  “But why are you moving this chest?”

  “It takes up too much room,” Jamie interrupted. “Don’t strain yourself, Father. I’m strong enough to move this by myself.”

  The priest ignored her boast and put his back to the chore of getting the trunk into the second room. “You should have emptied it before you moved it,” he stated as an afterthought.

  Jamie shook her head. “It wouldn’t have been right to look inside. It isn’t my property, and everyone’s entitled to his privacy.”

  “The chest belonged to Helena,” Father Murdock announced. “I suppose you could call it yours now, Jamie.”

  Before she could respond to that announcement, the priest turned and started out the door. “I’d best get back down to Angus. I’m supposed to be watching out for him until Gavin brings Elizabeth back.”

  “Thank you for your help,” Jamie called after him.

  The lass was taking forever, Father Murdock decided almost an hour later. He kept looking up at the bedroom, wondering what she was up to. When Elizabeth came back into the great hall, Father Murdock decided to see what had Jamie so occupied.

  She was still in the second bedroom. Two candles had been lit, giving the room a soft glow. Lady Jamie was kneeling in front of the chest. She was just closing the lid when Father Murdock walked inside.

  “Did you find anything useful?” the priest asked.

  He didn’t realize she was crying until she turned to look up at him. “What is it, lass? What’s upset you?”

  “I’m being foolish,” Jamie whispered. “She’s dead now and I didn’t even know her, Father, yet I’m crying as though she were my very own sister. Will you tell me about Helena?”

  “Alec should tell you,” Father Murdock said.

  “Please, Father,” Jamie begged. “I want to know what happened. I’m sure Alec didn’t kill her.”

  “Good Lord, no,” the priest agreed. “Where did you hear that talk?”

  “In England.”

  “Helena killed herself, Jamie. She jumped off the ridge above the pasture.”

  “It couldn’t have been an accident? She didn’t fall?”

  “No, it wasn’t an accident. She was seen.”

  Jamie shook her head. “I don’t understand, Father. Was she very unhappy here?”

  The priest bowed his head. “She must have been terribly unhappy, Jamie, but she hid her feelings well. We didn’t watch out for her the way we should have, I now realize. Both Annie and Edith think she planned to kill herself from the moment she was wed to Alec.”

  “Does Alec believe this?” Jamie asked.

  “I would guess so.”

  “Her death must have hurt him terribly.”

  Father Murdock didn’t comment on that statement, but he believed she was right. The fact that Alec wouldn’t discuss Helena was proof the topic was too tender still.

  “Father, why would a woman who is contemplating suicide bother to bring all her cherished possessions to her husband’s home? She even packed baby clothes,” Jamie continued. “And beautiful linens too. Don’t you think that’s odd for someone—”

  “She wasn’t thinking clearly,” Father Murdock countered.

  Jamie shook her head. “No, Father. I don’t think she killed herself. I’m sure it was an accident.”

  “You have a tender heart, lass, and if it makes you feel better to believe that’s how Helena died, then I’ll agree with you.”

  He helped Jamie to her feet. She blew out the candles and walked by the priest’s side back down the stairs. “I’ll pray for her soul every night, Father,” she promised.

  A servant came rushing into the hall, spotted Jamie, and called out, “Your sister’s here, milady.”

  Jamie clasped Father Murdock’s hand. “It must be Mary calling on me,” she explained to the priest. “Will you excuse me, please?”

  She was halfway out the door before Father Murdock nodded permission. “I’ll bring Mary inside to meet you,” she called over her shoulder.

  Jamie hurried on outside, a smile of greeting on her face. The minute she caught sight of her sister, however, her smile evaporated. Mary was in tears. Jamie glanced around to see where Daniel was, then realized her sister was all alone.

  “How
did you ever find your way here, Mary?” she asked after giving her sister a proper hug.

  “You’re the one who gets lost all the time, Jamie, not me,” Mary told her.

  “I never get lost,” Jamie countered. “Hush your weeping now.” She noticed several Kincaid soldiers watching them. “Come, we’ll take a nice walk so we may speak in private. You must tell me what has you so upset.”

  Jamie tugged her sister along the path down to the lower bailey. “Three of Daniel’s men showed me the way here,” Mary explained when she’d regained her composure. “I lied to them, Jamie. I told them I had Daniel’s permission to come calling.”

  “Oh, Mary, you shouldn’t have done that,” Jamie said. “Why didn’t you just tell Daniel you wanted to see me?”

  “You can’t tell that man anything,” Mary muttered. She lifted the hem of her yellow bliaut and mopped the corners of her eyes. “I hate him, Jamie. I’ve run away.”

  “No, you cannot mean what you say.”

  “Don’t sound so horrified, sister. I hate him, I tell you. He’s cruel and mean. When I tell you what happened, I swear you’ll hate him, too.”

  They reached the gap in the wall. Jamie and her sister sat down on the low stone ledge. “All right, Mary, tell me what happened,” Jamie instructed. “We’re quite alone here.”

  “It’s such an embarrassment,” Mary warned. “But you’re the only one I dare talk about this to, sister.”

  “Yes?” Jamie prodded.

  “Daniel didn’t demand that I give myself to him.”

  The sentence fell between them. Jamie kept waiting for Mary to say more, and Mary kept waiting for Jamie’s reaction.

  “Did he give you a reason?”

  “He did,” Mary answered. “And at first I thought he was being most considerate. He said he would give me time to get to know him.”

  “That was very considerate of him,” Jamie admitted. She frowned, wondering why Alec hadn’t shown such compassion with her. Then she remembered Alec didn’t have any compassion to show anyone.

  Mary burst into fresh tears. “I thought so, as I’ve told you. Then he told me he was most unhappy with me because I made you protect me when those men attacked us. He actually thought I should have shielded you. ”