The Highlander's Bride

by Amanda Forester

  Gavin. She had need of him.

  Emerging back on deck, Colette found the sun had set and the moon was rising on the horizon. The sailors had lit lanterns along the side of the ship and continued to sail north, following the coastline in the distance off the starboard side. Gavin had returned to the bow and was looking out over the ocean as the stars began to appear in the clear night sky. The baby’s soft noises of complaint grew ever louder as she approached until, in meeting Gavin, the child took a deep breath and let out a fearsome wail.

  “Oh! You stop that noise at once, you naughty child,” Colette reprimanded the tot. The child in question only began to wail louder. What was wrong with the thing?

  “How does one make this noise stop?” she asked Gavin, hoping that he would have some insight into the matter. In truth, she hoped he would take over care of the squalling thing himself.

  “When was the last time she was fed? Or given a fresh nappy?” Gavin did not seem at all fazed by the loud cries of the baby and instead was asking perfectly rational questions. How infuriating!

  “I do not know. How would I know something like that? Shall I rouse Pippa?”

  “Nay, I doubt Pippa would be a suitable caretaker for the bairn right now.”

  “Yes, I concede that you are correct in this matter.” Colette paused, unsure what to do.

  The baby however had no such qualms about causing a stir and proceeded to scream as if she was having her appendages pulled off.

  “It sounds to me like the bairn is hungry. Why dinna ye go feed her?” Gavin did not seem particularly perturbed, though he watched her with a flicker of confusion on his face, as if trying to figure out why she did not attend to the much demanding infant.

  Colette had no idea how to feed the infant without food being brought before her, and Pippa had mentioned something about milk, but how was that accomplished? However, she was reticent to admit the full extent of her lack of skill to Gavin. “Where Pippa has stored materials needed for the baby is not known to me.”

  “I believe everything is in yer trunks, which have been brought to yer cabin,” said Gavin in a helpful tone, though he clearly did not understand the nature of the difficulty.

  Darkness spread fast across the sky, the stars coming out in force, bright and twinkling, a stark contrast to the squalling infant in her arms. Colette cleared her throat. “In truth, I am not familiar with the feeding and care of infants.” She hoped not to lose his good opinion with her confession.

  A slow smile spread across Gavin’s face. “Then ye must allow me to assist ye.” He spoke in a tone that made her want to allow him to do just about anything. She had thought him a handsome man in the setting sun, but in the pale light of the ship’s lantern, he looked like a different animal altogether. At night, there was a wildness about his eyes that drew her closer even as it warned her to stay away.

  She held her back straight and gave him a brief nod, turning on her heel to march back to their cabin. Their cabin? Clearly Pippa could not be moved, so it would not be possible for Gavin to stay in the spare cabin. Pippa would not share her bedchamber tonight, of that Colette was certain. This left Colette with Gavin and the screeching infant. First things first, she needed to make the noise stop.

  Back in the cabin, Gavin opened one of her trunks and quickly pulled out a leather bottle of milk. “This is the last of the cow’s milk. From now on, we’ll have to get milk from the goat in the hold below. She is also old enough to eat porridge and bread soaked in milk.”

  Much to Colette’s relief, Gavin took the baby from her arms and helped the babe drink from the bottle by slowly pouring it drip by drip into her mouth. The baby warmed quickly to this exercise and gobbled up as much milk as she was provided. Colette was amazed the large Highlander could be so gentle with such a small creature. He held the babe easily in one arm and fed her with the other as natural as could be.

  The babe was content with her meal, and Gavin handed the baby back to Colette. He then removed some pieces of wood and rope from the trunk. Colette watched in curious wonder as Gavin quickly put the pieces together to form a basket. Throwing the ropes over one of the main braces above them, he created a hanging bassinet for the baby.

  Colette, wanting to show some small form of domesticity, found blankets for the bassinet, and soon the baby was sleeping peacefully in her new rocking cradle.

  A knock on the door brought the ship’s cook, who provided them with a simple supper of dried beef, bread, cheese, and wine. They set the simple fare on a small table, but there was only one chair in the cabin, so Colette perched herself as elegantly as she could manage on the edge of the bed and Gavin sat across from her on the chair.

  They ate, breaking bread together. Alone together. Colette feared she was enjoying their time together in the quaint little cabin a bit too much.

  “Thank you, good knight, you have proven your worth today. I cannot imagine what would have happened without you,” she said, trying to remember how she used to make pleasant but distant conversation.

  “Ye have done well yerself.” Gavin gave her an easy smile. “What a day, eh? I tell ye the truth, I dinna ken we were going to make it.” His words were warm and friendly.

  She struggled to maintain her distance, her objectivity. She wished nothing more than to fall into the dream illusion they had created—the merchant and his new wife. What a happy life…if only it were hers to keep. But it wasn’t, and she would do best to remember it.

  “When we arrive at our destination, I will command my husband to provide you with some recompense for your efforts today.” She would pay him. She knew it was an insult, but she did not know how else to reestablish the perspective she had lost.

  The meaning of her words did not pass by Gavin unnoticed. He paused for a moment in his meal, his posture growing stiff. “A knight seeks no reward for doing his duty.”

  “Then you may sleep well tonight, knowing that you have behaved in a manner most becoming your knightly calling.” She held her head high as if she were still seated at the head table beside her father.

  A shadow fell over Gavin’s eyes. She hated to see it, for she wanted the camaraderie of their friendship returned, but she knew she could not have it. Why tempt herself with something she could never have? He may not thank her now, but in the end, it would be better for them both.

  He rose stiffly and gave her a brief nod. “I’ll check wi’ Captain Dupont to ensure our journey proceeds well, m’lady.”

  “Very good.” She rose to her feet and nodded to dismiss him. “As it is a pleasant night, perhaps you may remain on deck and ensure that our travels continue in a safe manner.”

  Gavin’s eyes pierced through hers, blazing hot. She shifted slightly, hoping he could not read her wavering thoughts. “Ye wish to avoid me this evening, m’lady, and I’ll grant ye yer wish. But know this, we canna avoid each other or be seen out of each other’s good graces wi’out raising suspicion.”

  Gavin paused and his face softened a bit. He cocked his head to one side, looking slightly like an adorable puppy. She fought against the instant pull of attraction. She must remain aloof.

  “Are ye afraid o’ me?” Gavin asked.

  “No, of course I am not!” she lied.

  “Ye’re afraid o’ something. I can see it in yer eyes.” A slow smile spread across his lips. “Ye woud’na be trying to purposely provoke me into anger, would ye?”

  “No… I… Why would you say such a thing?” She was flustered.

  He gave her a slow smile that slipped past her defenses and struck home in her heart. “Ye have yerself a good night, m’lady. I will see ye in the morn.” He turned and left the cabin, shutting the door behind him before she could think of an appropriate response.

  She stood there, shaking, not knowing how to feel. This was worse than anything she had anticipated. If he could see through her defenses, he could do
what no one else ever had. She would be stripped naked before him.

  What a delicious thought.

  Twenty-three

  In the wee hours of the morning, Colette awoke to the sound of her plans going completely awry. In her desire to remove Gavin from her cabin, she had forgotten about one small thing—small but very, very loud.

  The baby had awoken and was screaming at the top of her little lungs. Colette sat bolt upright, momentarily confused as to where she was. “See to the infant,” she called to her maids and lay back down.

  The baby cried louder and her maids did not jump to do her bidding. Colette sat up, looking for her errant ladies-in-waiting, only to recall she was alone. The baby screeched. No, not alone.

  Colette struggled against the rolling ship to get out of bed. If the baby was to be silenced, it would be up to her. Clearly, chasing Gavin away had been a tactical error on her part. She shuffled over to the squalling child in nothing but her chemise and bare feet. “Well, what is it you want?”

  The baby quieted in anticipation, looking at her with trembling lips. Colette had a sense she had but a moment to figure out what the babe wanted before it would unleash its piercing wail again. Colette’s thick, wavy hair, usually bound up day and night, hung loose since there was no maid to tend to it and Colette had been too tired to bother with it last night. A strand fell in the bassinet, and the baby grabbed hold and pulled hard.

  “Ow!” cried Colette, pulling back her long hair, out of the dangerous grasp of her tiny attacker.

  The baby responded by howling all the more. Was it hungry? Gavin had mentioned something about a goat, but surely he did not intend for her to go into the hold of the ship and milk a goat in the wee hours of the morning.

  Colette knew she had no option but to pick up the wailing thing before she woke the entire ship and possibly all the nautical inhabitants of the great ocean. She caught her breath. The baby smelled something horrible. She held the offending package at arm’s length, not wanting to touch more of the slobbery thing than was absolutely necessary. She laid the unhappy bundle on the floor while she rummaged through one of the trunks, trying to find another bottle of milk.

  As she feared, as soon as her hands left the infant, the tot began to scream. With no small amount of relief, Colette found what was left of the leather flask of milk and presented it triumphantly to the baby. The baby, however, batted at the leather bottle with tiny fists, wanting nothing to do with the peace offering.

  “This is what Sir Gavin gave you and you liked it,” she reasoned with the grumpy tot. It was not fair that the baby was responding differently to her then she had to Gavin. Colette thrust the milk into the child’s face again. “Pray be reasonable. You liked this a few hours ago. Drink it and stop this caterwauling, I beg thee.”

  The baby was in no mood to be obliging. Colette picked up the little one once more, carefully holding her away from her nose. Ugh, the thing reeked. She must be utterly filthy. It suddenly occurred to Colette that if she smelled so bad, she would probably cry in a similar manner. Perhaps the baby did not wish to sit in her own excrement?

  Of course, the only way to cleanse the infant would be to undress her, something Colette had never attempted. The baby was wrapped in some sort of long strip of linen. Colette searched for the proper place to begin unwrapping the crying package but was a little mystified. She rolled up her sleeves; this was going to be messy work. But if Pippa could do it, and Sir Gavin could do it, then she could take care of this noisy little thing too.

  Finding ties in the back, she untied the tot and began to unwrap her. Far from being appreciative of her efforts, the baby only shrieked louder. The babe may not have enjoyed her current state of smelliness, but she protested loudly when her bare skin felt the cool night air. Colette was successful getting her out of the first layer of tightly bound swaddling clothes. She felt a swell of pride in her accomplishment, though she should not have looked to the baby to share in any such celebration.

  “You should be pleased I have gotten this far,” Colette chastised the tot for her emotional outburst. “My, but you are smelling something horrid.”

  Another long strip of solid swaddling clothes was wrapped tightly around the infant, which Colette quickly unwrapped. With her arms and legs now freed, the baby flapped her arms and legs about, free of her encumbrances.

  “Now then, see here, if you would just stop that. Stop moving about so I can get at you.” Her words had absolutely no effect on the baby, who must have thought of herself as some kind of windmill, moving her arms and legs wildly. “This is why you are bound tight, no?” reasoned Colette to the utterly recalcitrant baby.

  The smell was growing worse, and Colette realized that she was getting near to the source of the problem. Thick flannel had been wrapped around the baby’s bum, and Colette hesitated, not wanting to touch it for she could see it was utterly soaked through with urine and other unmentionable substances. She tucked her long hair behind her, ensuring it did not fall into something unpleasant. Taking a deep breath—and then regretting that decision for the smell was putrid—Colette carefully found a clean bit of the flannel and pulled off the repulsive nappy with one quick tug. The result brought tears to her eyes.

  “Oh, oh, oh my word. Heaven protect me.” How long had the baby sat in her own filth? She quickly wiped the baby’s derriere clean with part of the linen strip and then stood, not knowing what to do with the offending mess in her hands. Out the window it went. Colette herself then leaned out the window and breathed deep of the clean sea air. Much better.

  Turning back to the naked baby, she grabbed a flannel square from the trunk, dipped it into some water from a pitcher on the table and scrubbed the baby clean, once again tossing the flannel out the window when she was done. She had a vague sense she perhaps should not toss things overboard, but she could not think of what else to do with it.

  The baby, naked but now quiet and happy, cooed at her and smiled. Colette smiled back. “Why did they have you all tied up?” she asked. “You do not like to be bound and restrained? Neither do I.”

  Colette washed her hands in the clean water, then rummaged through the trunk, finding a clean strip of linen for swaddling. She picked up the baby and placed her on the bed, trying to figure out how to dress her once more. Instead of swaddling the tot, she placed a thick flannel square around her bottom and then wrapped the swaddling strips just around her lower half, leaving the arms and legs free. Colette placed her in the bassinet and the baby laughed and kicked happily, pleased at her newfound freedom.

  Colette was equally pleased at her success. She stood and glanced around the tidy cabin, but there were none present to share in her success. She wished Gavin could see her now, wanting to have his acknowledgment of her triumph. She realized the cabin door was slightly ajar and went to close it only to find Gavin standing in the tight passageway.

  “You!” she cried.

  Gavin shrugged his shoulders and gave a sheepish grin.

  * * *

  Gavin could not sleep. He was trying to get some rest while partially hidden under some ropes, which smelled strongly of tar. He did not wish to draw attention to the fact he was not sharing the bed of his new wife, but his chosen spot was not at all comfortable. Yet the discomfort of his bed was not what was keeping him awake.

  Every time he began to drift to sleep, unbidden thoughts of Marie Colette would come to him in his dreams, teasing him with her intoxicating perfume, winding her seductive hands around his neck, pressing her perfect body against his, moving in for the kiss…and then he would wake up with a start, the feel of her lips still tingling on his.

  All he wanted was more, and he knew that was the one thing he could never have.

  A loud wail of an unhappy baby pierced the night. Gavin lay still, waiting to see if she would quiet, but instead, the baby squalled louder. The baby’s unpleasant howling no doubt disturbed the
sleep of many a crewmen, and there did not seem to be any chance of Colette stopping the cries, so Gavin groggily made his way across the swaying deck to the cabins.

  No doubt Colette would be upset at the disturbance to her sleep, particularly since she had no concept of how to care for a child. He had never known a woman so ill-equipped to handle children. He had thought the mothering instinct was inherent for all of the female species. Apparently, this was missing in Lady Colette.

  Gavin entered the hatch and felt his way down the dark passageway to the center cabin. He opened it no more than a crack, his movements arrested by the vision before him. Marie Colette, wearing nothing more than a thin chemise, was carrying around the squalling infant. He had never before seen her in such a state of disrobe. Most specifically, he had never seen her before without her hair completely covered by some sort of elaborate veil and headdress.

  His jaw dropped. Her hair was a glossy, dark auburn that shimmered in the lamplight, almost as if it was wet. It fell over her shoulders and below her waist in soft gentle rolling curls. It was beautiful. It was so thick and rich, he had the sudden desire to sink his hands into it and caress the soft curls. He wished to ban her from ever veiling her hair again. And yet no, he mentally amended, she should not share this beauty with anyone but him; this would be his alone.

  Colette stood, doing something for the baby, but he could not bother to determine what. Whatever she was doing, at least the baby had stopped the wild screams. By the light of the single lantern, Colette’s body was perfectly silhouetted in her near-transparent linen chemise. He sucked in his breath and held it, afraid that if he moved, his presence would be noted and the vision would vanish.