Highland Belle

by Patricia Grasso

  I am a lady, my lord, not a wench. Brigette smiled winsomely. I am also an earls daughter and have been taught proper respect.

  Taught ye respect, did they? the duke mocked, his eyes alight with the most enjoyable verbal sparring since his wife had died. Well, then, what did ye learn?

  Brigette grinned puckishly. Obviously, not a damned thing.

  The duke roared with laughter and wished he could be thirty years younger. Gems like Lady Brigette, he thought, were wasted on young men like Iain or his own son, Magnus. Youth was blinded by a comely face and figure. An experienced man could fully appreciate the ladys intelligence and wit and the innocence that allowed her to speak her mind freely.

  What respect ye get from that one will be hard won and well earned, he said to Iain as he watched Brigette slip away to tend her duties as hostess. Good luck to ye.

  I envy the grandsons yell get from her, the duke said, turning to Black Jack. My Magnus has been betrothed to Huntlys youngest since the day the chit was born. Im truly despairin because he doesna seem in any hurry to wed and sire me an heir.

  How is cousin Magnus? Iain asked.

  And how the hell should I know? the duke barked. Hes forever off aboot the queens business. Incognito, I might add.

  Ye can be proud, Black Jack said, yeve instilled in him such loyalty to the queen.

  Id appreciate a bit of loyalty to me. The duke snorted. Inverary needs an heir and Huntlys chit is ripe. If its the last thin I do, Ill see Magnus wed to her. After shes dropped a few brats, he can disguise himself as the devil and go straight to hell.

  Black Jack chuckled. I must admit Iain knows his duty in that regard. Ye wouldna believe the long hours he spends lyin abed wi Brie. Iains face reddened with embarrassment, and Percy howled with laughter.

  It was the dukes turn to chuckle. Id forgotten how it was bein wed to a comely wench. We must be gettin old. Speakin of old, Black Jack, Ive sad news concernin our kinsman, Breadalbane. Colin sickened recently and passed on. Will ye come along wi me to pay our respects?

  Yes, and Iainll also come. Black Jack turned to his youngest son. Do ye think, Percy, yer capable of takin charge here for a fortnight? I wouldna want to return home to nothin. Now Percys face reddened with embarrassment, and Iain howled with laughter.

  How long will you be gone? Brigette asked, reaching for Iain as he slipped into bed with her.

  He kissed her lingeringly. Nae more than a fortnight, sweet.

  Ill miss you.

  Especially in bed?

  Most especially in bed.

  With that, Brigette pushed him onto his back and slithered on top. Sensuously, she rubbed her softness full-length against his hardened warriors body. Her rosy lips parted and descended to his as she raised her hips and then slowly, tantalizingly, impaled herself on his shaft.

  A growl of pleasure escaped Iains throat as she caressed every part of his body with her own. Holding his own desire in check, Iain watched her eyes fly open in surprised abandon when she dissolved into a quivering mass of hot sensation.

  Yer button was swellin against me, Iain whispered huskily, then rolled her onto her back and rammed himself into the deepest part of her being. Clinging to him, Brigette wrapped her legs around his waist and arched her hips, meeting his every powerful thrust, her body urging him on.

  Give me a son, Iain panted.

  Yes, Brigette wailed, and they shuddered together.

  Lady Antonia awakened early and dressed hurriedly, then rushed downstairs to the great hall. Iain would be leaving at dawn, and she hoped Brigette would sleep through his departure, giving her a few moments alone with him. She must somehow persuade Iain to set Brigette aside before a child was conceived. Loving Iain as she did, Antonia was determined to rekindle the warm feelings hed once harbored for her, and to become the next Countess of Dunridge. Nothing was going to stop her, even if she had to dispatch the Sassenach with her own lovely hands.

  Poised in the entrance to the crowded hall, Lady Antonia was a vision of ethereal perfection. Rising early did not detract from her beauty, her drowsiness giving her eyes a sultry cast.

  Iain sat alone at the high table. Antonia smiled and sat down beside him. Good mornin, she greeted brightly.

  Mornin, he returned without looking at her.

  Brie isna seein ye off?

  Shell be down. Iain glanced sidelong at her. What brings ye here at this hour?

  I must speak wi ye. Antonias eyes beseeched. Its urgent.

  Iain arched a questioning brow. Im listenin.

  Antonia hesitated, her eyes sweeping the crowded hall. I must speak privately.

  Iain studied her for a long moment, then rose from his seat. Ill hear what ye have to say in Black Jacks study.

  Antonia led the way. Aware of her deviousness, Iain left the door ajar and stood just inside. When she turned to face him, Antonia saw Sly scurrying past on his way to the garden and knew Brigette would be close behind.

  I love ye, she declared loudly.

  Before Iain could utter a word, Antonia threw herself at him and kissed him passionately. Her arms entwined his neck and held him prisoner. Iain was stiff and unresponsive, but Brigette could not see that from where she stood. A thousand daggers pierced Brigettes heart, and she raced after Sly.

  Iain shoved Antonia away. Dinna do that again, he growled.

  There was a time when ye cared for me.

  Yes, but I was young and foolish, Iain returned, his voice filling with contempt, and ye wanted to be a countess. What I felt for ye once is gone. I love my wife. With that, he turned on his heels and left the study.

  Antonias frown vanished, and the slyest of smiles touched her lips. When the Sassenach is gone, she thought, Ill marry Iain and become the Countess of Dunridge. If this fails, Ill write to my brother. Finlay has always given me wise counsel.

  Iain found Brigette in the garden. He walked up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, then whispered close to her ear, I was lookin for ye. Whats this? he asked, seeing the tears on her cheeks when she turned around.

  Nothing.

  Dinna lie to me.

  I-Im feeling lonely.

  Ill be returnin in a fortnight, he said, then patted her stomach and grinned crookedly. Perhaps yer wi child and its makin ye weepy?

  No.

  We must try harder to make Black Jack happy. Iain lowered his lips and kissed her lingeringly. I love ye, Brie.

  Brigette smiled sadly at her husbands retreating back, then strolled about the garden, hoping the crisp morning air would clear the cobwebs from her troubled mind. I love him, she thought, but refuse to share his affection with another.

  Iain was kissing Antonia. The thought pounded in her mind, tormenting her. What am I to do? Brigette wondered distractedly and sat down to ponder her future.

  Lady Antonia was pleased with herself when she saw her rival sitting forlornly in the farthest corner of the garden. The Sassenach appears none too happy, she thought with glee. How clever of me to have seized such an unexpected yet timely opportunity! Convincing Iain to set her aside would have been impossible, but now . . .

  Antonia strode purposefully toward Brigette, but as she neared her adversary, Sly sensed the womans enmity and bared his teeth in a snarl. Antonia quickly stepped back a pace. He willna bite me, will he?

  No, unfortunately.

  That isna such a nice thin to say, Brie, Antonia chided.

  Lady Brigette.

  What?

  Please, call me Lady Brigette. Only my friends call me Brie. She stood, glaring at Antonia.

  Are we no friends?

  I loathe the very ground on which you stand, Brigette hissed.

  Antonia was taken aback by Brigettes venom. Recovering herself, she said, Id like to be yer friend — if yed give me a chance.

  Youre trying to steal my husband.

  So! Antonia arched a brow haughtily. Iain finally told ye?

  Told me what?

  Antonia appeared nonplussed. I guess I s
houldna have said anythin.

  I saw you and Iain in the study.

  Perhaps we havena been fair to ye, Antonia said, tears of sympathy welling up in her eyes.

  Whatever youve come to say, Brigette ordered, speak to the point.

  To speak openly would be kinder, Antonia said, controlling the powerful urge to lash out. Before I wed Malcolm, Iain and I were involved. Wed met in Edinburgh and fell in love, but Black Jack had already contracted wi my father for me to wed Malcolm. Dutiful daughter that I am, I obeyed my fathers wishes. Livin beneath the same roof was difficult for us, but we always conducted ourselves honorably.

  How exceedingly impressive, Brigette sneered.

  After puir Malcolm died, Antonia continued, ignoring the sarcasm, Iain, naturally, consoled me in my grief.

  Naturally.

  It was then we realized we still cared for each other, but Black Jack had already contracted for Iain to wed ye. Bein an honorable mon, Iain wouldna shame his father by breakin the contract, but he canna set aside his feelins for me. Ye ken?

  Im getting the general idea, Brigette replied coldly.

  Im so sorry, Antonia gushed, touching Brigettes arm in sympathy. Iain willna set ye aside, but wants ye only to produce an heir for Black Jack. He canna love ye the way he loves me. How wretched to be nothin but a brood mare!

  Brigette turned her back on the other woman, unable to control the quivering of her lips or the hot stream of tears coursing down her face. Consumed by pain and jealousy, she failed to question the validity of Antonias words.

  Give me a son, Iain had panted in a moment of shuddering ecstasy.

  Perhaps yer wi child? hed asked before leaving with the duke.

  Antonias words rang like a death knell for Brigettes marriage. Taking a deep, ragged breath, Brigette regained her composure, and her pain became boiling rage. Without a thought to my happiness, she seethed, that arrogant bastard married me to honor his fathers contract. How dare he profess his love for me one moment and fly to his mistresss arms in the next! All this time the swine and his tart were enjoying a jest at my expense.

  Brigette whirled around to confront Antonia, but the blond beauty had vanished. Revenge formed in her mind. Well see who laughs last in this sordid affair. Its unfortunate but true that a bastard cannot inherit, for thats all the proud MacArthurs will get from Iain and Antonia. I will not be here to whelp a brat each year.

  Slys whining drew Brigettes attention and she knelt to hug the fox. As much as I love you, she whispered brokenly against his neck, you may not come along. Basildon Castle is closed to me; either Iain will seek me there or my mother will return me to Dunridge. My destiny lies in London, my precious pet, where you cannot follow. Besides, with me gone, Glenda will need your company.

  Dressed in her warmest riding gown and woolen cloak, Brigette paused in the foyer and wondered where Glenda might be. In the library, she remembered, learning her letters with Father Kaplan.

  Brigette smiled in spite of her troubles. How strange that the son of a Jewish merchant would be a priest! But that was exactly what Father Kaplan was. The product of a Scottish woman and Jewish merchant, Father Kaplan had been orphaned at a young age and raised in a Catholic shelter.

  The priesthood had beckoned, but once ordained, Father Kaplan had not been taken seriously because of his unusual parentage. So be it, hed thought, and had begun ministering to the spiritual and earthly needs of the derelicts and outcasts in Edinburghs poorest section. There, most did not know their own fathers, much less care about his. Father Kaplan had been quite busy; the world was filled with the poor, the homeless, the lost.

  Then Black Jack MacArthur had entered his life. A certain lady friend of Black Jacks had done the unthinkable — attempted suicide. Ravaged by guilt, Black Jack was frantic that the dying woman be blessed and honorably buried. Learning the circumstances of the emergency, no priest would come . . . until Black Jack found Father Kaplan.

  Filled with compassion for the young lords anguish, the priest had understood that he was ministering more to Black Jack than to the unidentified lady. Without a moments hesitation, Father Kaplan had accompanied Black Jack to his kinsmans home and administered the last rites of the church to the beautiful, dying noblewoman. Later, hed blessed her unmarked grave, gaining MacArthurs respect and friendship.

  Black Jack had asked Father Kaplan to return to Dunridge Castle with him. When the priest hesitated, Black Jack had vowed there were many poor crofters and drunken men-at-arms in Argyll; all were in need of having their souls saved. So Father Kaplan had left Edinburgh with Black Jack and remained at Dunridge for the next thirty years.

  Glenda brightened when Brigette and Sly walked into the library. Im sorry to interrupt, Brigette said to the old priest. May I speak privately with Glenda?

  Well, it isna playtime yet, he replied, but I suppose we could end our lessons early for once.

  Let me see what youve been doing, Brigette said after the priest had gone.

  Glenda grinned and held up her parchment. Written on it in large, childish letters were Brigettes and Slys names.

  Excellent! And your own name?

  GLENDA!

  Brigette applauded, then squatted beside the child. As you can tell by my gown, Im leaving.

  Leavin? Glenda cried.

  Im riding out for a while, Brigette said, patting her arm. I want you to promise to care for Sly while Im gone.

  Glenda sensed something was terribly wrong. Frowning, she looked from Brigette to Sly, then back again.

  Dont you want to care for Sly?

  Yes, but Id rather go wi ye.

  Not today, sweetheart, Brigette replied. Sometimes people have a need to be alone and think about their problems.

  I could help ye.

  By caring for Sly, you will be helping me, Brigette said. Will you do it?

  Yes.

  Youre a good girl and I love you. Give me a hug.

  Unaccountably sad, Glenda flew into Brigettes arms, and they clung to each other while Sly scampered around them, whining for attention. Brigette kissed the little girl on each cheek and set her aside, then gave the fox a quick pat and left the library.

  Good mornin, Percy greeted her in the foyer. To where are ye off?

  Brigette hesitated. I — Im riding out.

  Ill ride wi ye.

  No! Brigette refused too quickly, and Percys brow furrowed into a frown. I prefer to be alone, she explained.

  Whats amiss, Brie?

  Nothing, but I miss Iain dreadfully.

  Ridin out alone is dangerous, he said.

  I promise I wont go far.

  Uncertain, Percy was silent. If anything happened to Brigette, his life would be less than worthless when Iain found out. The last time hed been in charge, shed run away. What a roasting hed suffered for that folly!

  Please, she pleaded.

  Against his better judgment, Percy nodded, but warned, Be careful and dinna go far. Dinna stay outside the walls longer than an hour.

  Yes, Papa. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

  Moments later, Brigette waved to the tower guards as she passed through the outer gate. A short distance away, she halted her horse and looked back at Dunridge Castle.

  Iain! her heart cried out. I loved you so!

  With painful regret, Brigette turned and galloped away.

  9

  With the heaviest of hearts, Brigette wended her lonely way southeast. The day was raw, and by afternoon she was uncomfortably cold and hungry.

  What a dolt I am, she berated herself. Though I would have been conspicuous wearing my fur-lined cloak, I also would have been warm. Even worse, Ive brought no food.

  Worried, Brigette wondered what would happen when night arrived. It was certain shed be passing the night alone in the woods; there was no inn where she could spend the coins shed taken. Brigette hoped thered be no wolves in the area. Bringing a weapon had also slipped her mind.

  Rounding a bend in the road, Brigette spied
a man walking up ahead. He halted at the sound of her horse and turned around. Cautiously, she advanced.

  From a distance, he seemed a strange old man, his carriage and physique incongruous with the overall impression of advanced age. He wore a long, tattered robe and carried a thick walking staff.

  Some sort of holy man, Brigette thought. Coming abreast of him, she realized he was much younger than he appeared, perhaps of an age with Iain.

  He was tall and broad shouldered. His long, shaggy hair was a rich chestnut brown. Only his outlandish garb and the stubbles of a beginning beard created the illusion of old age.

  As the man eyed her curiously, Brigette halted her horse. Her eyes met his, and she was almost startled by their familiar, piercing grayness. Where had she seen those eyes before?

  Without seeming to scrutinize, those sharp gray eyes missed nothing about the green-eyed, copper-haired beauty astride the horse. He noted the quality of her finely made garments, her wedding ring, and the MacArthur horse. When she spoke, he recognized her upper-crust English accent. Very upper-crust English.

  Good day to ye, my lady. The man smiled and nodded his head.

  Good day to you, sir, Brigette returned. Would this be the road to London?

  As if he could see the roads end, he cast a long glance at the horizon, then looked back at her. I do believe so.

  Are these MacArthur lands through which Im passing? she asked.

  The man studied Brigette speculatively, then decided she was too fine a wench to be a horse thief. But who was she? A runaway bride? The last hed heard, neither of his MacArthur cousins had married. Were on Campbells lands, he answered. Ye passed the MacArthur land several miles back, if thats where yer headed.

  Im for London.

  By all the holy saints! he exclaimed, a charming grin lighting his face. Im also for London. Ill tell ye a tale for a lift on yer horse.