Highland Belle

by Patricia Grasso

  Tell me quickly, Moireach threatened, or Ill sharpen my butcherin knife on yer hide.

  Twas Lady Antonia! Kevin blurted, then continued in a rush. She told me to kill the chickens and blame the fox. I didna want to do it, but she said shed have me sent away. Please, ye must believe me.

  I believe ye.

  If Lord Iain learns the truth, Kevin moaned, Ill be sent away. Or worse.

  The truth willna rectify matters now and will only cause more strife in the family, Moireach said. Let me think. She paced back and forth in front of Kevin like a general. Ive an idea, but nae faith ye could carry it off. Wait here while I fetch my Jamie.

  Jamie? Kevin gulped nervously. The man was fierce with a sword.

  My son has a fondness for Lady Brigettes tirewoman and will do my biddin.

  A few minutes later, Moireach returned with Jamie and Spring. Kevin, lad, tell Jamie yer tale.

  Lady Antonia ordered me to kill the chickens and blame the fox. She threatened to dismiss me if I didna do it.

  Damn, Jamie cursed.

  Double damn, Spring echoed.

  Ive a scheme to help set thins aright, Moireach said. Will ye help yer sweet mother, laddie?

  Jamie grinned. Need ye ask such a foolish question?

  Moireach smiled. Ye must kill a fox, then bring the puir thin back here. Kevin will take it to Lord Iain and say its the fox that killed the chickens. Can ye do it?

  Yes.

  Ye must be verra careful, she cautioned. Slys wearin a yellow collar, so avoidin him shouldna be too difficult.

  Killing another fox, Spring commented, will not return Sly to Brigette.

  Yer correct, Moireach agreed, but it could begin mendin thins between them.

  It wont change the fact that Lord Iain abused her.

  Twas his right, Jamie interjected hotly. She defied her husband and got exactly what she deserved!

  Oh! Spring was aghast at his words. Her lips tightened whitely in anger.

  Silence! Moireach ordered. Arguin amongst ourselves willna help the laird and his lady. What do ye think of the plan, Spring?

  Well, she relented, it cannot cause harm, and there is a small chance it could help.

  Its settled, then, Moireach said. Jamie, get yerself on this in the mornin.

  The next week passed wretchedly for the lord and his lady. The fox conspirators were none too happy either. Apparently, killing a fox was more difficult than they had assumed. The only truly happy person at Dunridge was Lady Antonia. Her mood and temper improved by leaps and bounds each day that Iain and Brigette remained estranged. And estranged they were.

  When his anger faded, Iain sought a reconciliation with his wife. Unfortunately, Brigette had other ideas and coldly rebuffed his overtures of renewed friendship. Unused to resisting women, Iain became frustrated, especially disliking this new experience of being rejected. Brigette could not, however, be faulted for disobedience.

  No disobedience there, Iain thought more than once. My wife obeys my smallest command and places my merest whim above her own comfort. In fact, she treated him with a frigid politeness that was beginning to grate on his nerves, not to mention his pride. Being near Brigette was like being stranded in the midst of a Highland blizzard.

  One morning, Iain happened to pass Brigette in the courtyard and asked her to stop.

  Yes, my lord?

  Would ye care to ride wi me today, hinny? he asked with a hopeful smile.

  No, thank you, she refused, but quickly added, If you insist, I shall naturally obey.

  Iains expression dropped in obvious disappointment. It was an invitation.

  In that case, please excuse me. With that, Brigette walked away, leaving him in misery.

  The MacArthur brothers passed through the garden one afternoon during Glendas playtime. Merry laughter and wild scamperings had vanished from these sessions as assuredly as Sly had vanished from Dunridge. The garden was silent as if deserted, but Iain saw them. Looking like fallen angels cast into a world of woe, Brigette and Glenda sat in the farthest corner of the winter-barren garden. Iains heart caught in his throat. It was then he decided that desperate times called for desperate measures. Only one thing would bring his wifes smile back. In the meantime . . .

  Though Iain had sworn to himself that hed not force her again, sleeping beside Brigette without touching her was proving the most tormenting of all his trials. Iains frustration was running high and his patience dangerously low. If his wife was so determined to be obedient, would she grant him his husbandly rights? The time was ripe for seduction, one of his many talents.

  Sliding into the bed, Iain decided to test the waters, in a manner of speaking. Brigette was lying on her side with her back to him. He turned slowly in her direction and touched her shoulder. Startled, she turned to look at him. Iain instantly pressed her back to the pillows and covered her lips with his in a desperate, hungry kiss. No response. Kissing his wife felt like kissing a corpse, albeit a warm one. Drawing back, Iain met her icy green eyes.

  Shall I spread my legs now? she asked coldly. Wont it be easier that way?

  Iains desire shriveled. Muttering an oath, he rolled away and turned his back on her.

  As she studied her husbands broad shoulders, Brigettes emotional pain was intense, almost physical. She loved him, but could she forgive his abuse of her or his cruelty to Sly?

  The fox conspiracy was set, and the action would commence as soon as supper was served. From their various places within the great hall, the conspirators anxiously watched those at the high board. Brigette sat sullenly between her husband and her father-in-law.

  Come the spring, Iain was saying to his father, Id like to travel wi Brie to Edinburgh. If ye can spare me, that is.

  Brigettes gaze darted to Iain. Black Jack arched a questioning brow at his son and wondered what the game was. I dinna see why no.

  I thought ye might like some new gowns and gewgaws, Iain said to Brigette. Edinburgh has many fine merchants. Perhaps yed like to purchase a few of those imported carpets from the East for our bedchamber?

  A bribe, she thought. Brigette stared expressionlessly at him, not exactly the reaction hed expected. As you wish, my lord.

  Damn it, Iain growled, slamming his fist on the table. What do ye wish?

  Unruffled, Brigette answered, I wish only to serve you, my lord. As you so kindly explained, the one with the cock commands and the one without obeys. She smiled without humor. The last time I checked, I was still the one without.

  Black Jack choked on his wine, Percy guffawed, and Iains face darkened with rage. Forget I mentioned it, he hissed and turned away.

  As you wish, my lord.

  It was then that Moireach approached. Lord Iain, young Kevin must speak wi ye. Its urgent.

  Glad to escape his wife, Iain walked to the entrance where Kevin was waiting. Brigette followed his progress and watched as he spoke to the young man. When Kevin lifted the fox high for Iains inspection, Brigette gasped, horrified, and rose from her seat. Mesmerized by the dead animal, she crossed the chamber to her husbands side.

  This is the fox that killed the chickens, Iain said, glancing at her.

  Sly wears a yellow collar.

  With a nod, Iain dismissed Kevin. Brigette stared after him and his gruesome possession.

  Sly isna guilty. Are ye no happy?

  Happy? Brigette stared incredulously at him, then gestured at the crowded hall. Sly is not among us, Iain. He is alone in the forest — if he even lives. I will never forgive you.

  Dinna be ridiculous, Iain snapped, catching her arm. Slys a beast, no yer bairn. If yeve the need for motherin, Ill give ye a babe of our own.

  Brigette yanked her arm away. You may command me in anything, but even you cannot command a womans love. I want no child of yours. With that, she fled the hall.

  The weeks that followed were even more wretched than before. The fox conspirators were disheartened by their failure to ease the strain between the lord and his lady. Moireach favore
d the formulation of another plan, but Jamie opposed her. Theyd done their best, but it was time for Iain and Brigette to solve their own marital problems. Spring sided with Jamie and Moireach acquiesced reluctantly.

  There seemed to be little chance of Iain and Brigette reconciling. Iain now returned his wifes coldness with his own. Each morning before she awakened, Iain rode out of Dunridge and returned at suppertime. He did not seek his own chamber at night until he was reasonably certain that Brigette slept.

  After several days of being ignored, Brigettes vanity was ruffled. She was beginning to wonder where her husband went and whom he saw there, but refused to grant him the satisfaction of asking. Iain was leaving her alone, Brigette reasoned, and that was what she desired. Was it not?

  Lady Antonia was beside herself with joy, and was the sole member of the MacArthur family eagerly anticipating Christmas. Almost nothing irritated her. She stopped scolding the servants and even smiled occasionally at Brigette, who became instantly suspicious. Were Antonias smiles and Iains disappearances somehow connected?

  Christmas was only a week away. Iain returned home that evening as supper was being served. Sitting beside him, Brigette sensed a change in his demeanor. He seemed more relaxed than hed been in weeks.

  Brigette was furious. My husband has taken a lover, she fumed, and pushed her plate away. But vengeance shall be mine, she thought without satisfaction. He cannot get an heir from his mistress.

  Finished with his meal, Iain stretched his legs out. He sipped his wine and watched Brigette, who became uncomfortable beneath his scrutiny.

  Im tired, she announced when she could endure no more. I believe Ill retire.

  An excellent idea. Iain yawned and stretched with exaggeration. Ill join ye. He took her arm, then bade good night to Black Jack and Percy, who smothered their merriment at Brigettes dismayed expression.

  They climbed the stairs in silence. Iains casual touch on Brigettes arm sent hot shivers coursing through her body, and her heartbeat quickened. Unwilling to yield to her husband, Brigette desperately missed what he did to her body. Merciful Christ, she cursed inwardly. A virgins life was so much simpler!

  Inside their chamber, Brigette hurried to don her nightshirt, but Iain stopped her. Ye must sleep wi me as God created ye, his amused voice sounded from behind her.

  But —

  Its a command, lovey. He grinned wickedly.

  As you wish, my lord.

  Brigette scurried into bed. Hugging the farthest edge, she turned her back on her husband. Iain slid in and snuggled close, pressing himself against the silkiness of her back. When he slipped his hand across her body and cupped one of her breasts, Brigette tensed.

  Its my wish we sleep thusly, he whispered.

  Moments later, Brigette knew by the sound of his even breathing that he slept. Iains tantalizing nakedness and possessively cupping hand conspired to make Brigette yearn for what she would not be enjoying that night. It was a long, long time before she was able to sleep.

  When Brigette awakened, her limbs were entwined with Iains. One arm was thrown across his stomach, and one leg was tangled between his muscular thighs. Her face was pressed against the thick mat of black hair covering his chest. Opening his eyes, Brigette found herself staring into her husbands smiling face.

  What are you doing here? she asked, surprised.

  Its my bed, he returned. Where else should I be?

  Youve been rising early of late.

  That task is completed. Iain grinned. Ive several days of leisure. Its good news, is it no?

  Yes. She almost choked on the words. Its wonderful news.

  Later that morning, Iain happened to meet Brigette in the courtyard and told her to stop for a moment.

  Yes, my lord?

  Would ye care to ride wi me? he asked.

  No, thank you.

  Its a command, hinny, no an invitation. When her mouth dropped open in dismay, he added, And yell ride in front of me on my horse.

  Iain lifted Brigette onto the saddle, then mounted behind and pressed the hardness of his body against her. By the time they returned, Brigette was certain she was going mad, tormented by her husbands gentle assault on her senses. Her body was turning traitor!

  Two days before Christmas, winters first blizzard was upon them. Forgoing the garden, Brigette and Glenda sat in front of the hearth in the great hall.

  Shaking the snow off their plaids, several MacArthur warriors, including Iain and Percy, trudged into the hall. Seeing the two downcast angels in front of the hearth, Iain advanced on them. Its an excellent day for playin Blindmans Buff, he said. Would ye care to play? Glenda nodded eagerly, but Brigette shook her head.

  Its a command, sweetie. Iain smiled pleasantly at his wifes grimace. Ill be the Blindman.

  When Percy had blinded him with a scarf, Iain whirled this way and that, trying to catch his wife. Giggling in spite of herself, Brigette jumped back out of reach, but someone pushed her into Iains outstretched arms. Squirming, she tried to break free, but was ensnared by her husbands steely grip.

  Aha! Iain chuckled. Whoever can this be?

  One of his hands slid across Brigettes silken cheek and drifted down the column of her neck to her shoulders. Now let me see, Iain thought aloud. His hand passed over the curve of a shapely hip, then tweaked a plump breast. Id know these titties anywhere — its my wife!

  Mortified and scarlet to the tips of her toes, Brigette slapped his hand away and fled the hall. Howls of raucous laughter chased her all the way upstairs.

  On Christmas Eve, Brigette decided that she was singularly unhappy. Even Glenda, anticipating the holiday, was less dejected by Slys abrupt departure from Dunridge.

  How can ye allow yer men to dice on Christmas Eve? Antonia complained to Black Jack when the family had gathered for supper. Its blasphemy.

  All should be happy at Christmas, the earl replied. If dicin brings them joy, then so be it.

  Antonia cast him an exasperated look, then turned to Brigette. Wheres Iain?

  Hes fetchin Bries present, Percy answered, so she doesna waste a moment of the holiday feelin puirly.

  Iain walked into the hall at the moment. Cradled in his arms was Sly, bedecked in a bright yellow ribbon that matched his collar.

  Startled mute, Brigettes mouth dropped open. Iain grinned and placed the fox on her lap. Merry Christmas, hinny, he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek. A lump of emotion formed in Brigettes throat as she looked from her pet to her husband.

  This is a night to go down in history, Iain quipped. For once my wife is speechless.

  Brigette buried her face into Slys neck and wept. The men exchanged smiles, and Glenda perched beside Brigette to pat the fox. Disgusted, Antonia left the hall.

  Are ye no happy? Glenda asked.

  Y-yes, Brigette sobbed, t-terribly h-happy. Black Jack and Percy burst out laughing.

  Come along wi me, Iain said and held out his hand. I want to speak privately wi ye. He escorted Brigette to Black Jacks study and closed the door.

  I willna admit to this publicly, he said, but I was unjust in my judgment and wrong to strike ye in anger. Can ye forgive me?

  Yes, Brigette answered, and I admit I was wrong to defy you — publicly. Can you forgive me?

  Iain smiled with tenderness, then lowered his head, his mouth claiming Brigettes in a gentle kiss. Their bodies melted together and the kiss deepened.

  I missed ye, he whispered, his lips hovering above hers.

  As I missed you, she vowed, drawing his lips down to hers again.

  8

  March in the Highlands was cold, much colder than Brigette remembered the south of England being at this time of year. Pink-cheeked, she and Glenda had passed an hour playing a rousing game of keep-the-ball-away-from-Sly. They were traveling the long road inside, a leisurely stroll through the garden before walking to the front courtyard.

  Buds, Brigette cried, stopping beside a tree.

  What?

  See. Brigette pointe
d to a branch. This tree is birthing buds. Do you know what that means? Glenda shook her head. It means winter is leaving and spring will soon arrive.

  Glenda giggled. Here she comes now.

  Brie, Spring called, rushing toward them. Company has arrived and youre needed in the hall.

  Company? Brigette echoed, surprised. Who?

  Spring shrugged. Someone important. The hall is filled with his men.

  Followed by Sly, Brigette entered the great hall and found it was, indeed, filled with strange men-at-arms. She scanned the chamber and saw Antonia curtsying to an older man who was sitting in front of the hearth with Black Jack, Iain, and Percy.

  Archibald Campbell, the Duke of Argyll, was of an age with his kinsman Black Jack MacArthur. His features were rugged, and his dark brown hair was tinged with gray at his temples, giving him a decidedly distinguished appearance. The dukes sharp gray eyes missed nothing. Turned with displeasure on a person, those eyes could pierce and wound more painfully than any gleaming sword.

  My lord, Black Jack introduced, this is Lady Brigette, Iains bride. Brie, make yer curtsy to the Duke of Argyll, our Campbell clan chief.

  My lord. Brigette smiled and curtsyed.

  Iain, lad, the duke said, returning Brigettes welcoming smile, yeve got yerself a bonnie lass. His eyes drifted to Sly, sitting beside his mistress. Am I seein what I think Im seein?

  If ye think yer seein a fox, Iain said drily, then yer seein what ye think yer seein. This furry fellow is Sly.

  What in Gods holy name, the duke asked, turning to Black Jack, is a fox doin in yer home?

  He lives here, Percy answered, his eyes sparkling with merriment.

  Lives here! Campbell exclaimed in amazed disbelief. Are ye in yer dotage, Black Jack, to allow such a thin?

  With all due respect, Brigette spoke up, ignoring her husbands warning look, Sly is my pet.

  Yer pet!?

  This is not your home, she snapped, her green eyes flashing with anger, and I am not your wife. The way we live at Dunridge is no business of yours!

  Brie! Black Jack and Iain shouted, appalled.

  Its all right, the duke assured them with a casual wave of his hand. Dinna scold the wench for her rudeness. What she says is undoubtedly true. He leaned toward Black Jack, saying, I shouldve known her temper would match her fiery hair. If ye recall, my late wife was a redhead. Campbell glanced at Iain and smiled sympathetically. Ive much experience dealin wi red-haired wenches, laddie, if ever yer in need of counsel.