Once more, the break ended too soon, and Kenna rose haphazardly, her face pale and her eyes covered in a smooth glaze.
“Are ye all right?” he asked, wrapping an arm around her as they went to find their horses.
She gave him a weary glance. “No, but why are ye?”
“I suppose I’m used to it,” Rob said, realizing for the first time since they had started this trek that Kenna was not. “Saddle up on my horse. I’ll ride behind ye so ye can get some sleep.”
She flushed. “‘Tis not necessary.”
“No, ‘tis not, but ye’ll do it anyway.”
Kenna must have been truly tired, for she did not fight him on it as he helped her up onto his saddle and mounted behind her, taking a moment to tie his plaid around them both before the party began to move. It would keep them both warm and, tied tight enough, she could sleep and lean to either side and not be at risk of falling off. Once again, she did not fight it, even though they were now so close together, tucked away in their own little cocoon.
“I am sorry that I canna hold my own,” Kenna mumbled after a mile or so had gone by.
A soft smile spreading across his lips, he tugged at the knot tying her horse’s reins to his saddle.
“‘Tis nothing to fret about. My father used to drag Hugh and me on these sorts of long hauls through the countryside once every so often. Said we needed a warrior’s stamina. Ye’ve hardly been asked to do so much.”
“Before we started this godforsaken journey, I hadn’t ridden any further than ten miles on horseback in one go.”
“Really?” Rob asked, feeling her slowly relax back into his chest. “How’d ye get anywhere?”
“We were rich, ye fool; we took a carriage,” she replied with a soft, sleepy laugh. “Ye would think the son of such a noble laird would ken that.”
“Would drive me nuts—riding in a carriage.” Rob allowed his chin to lower to rest atop the softness of her curls.
“‘Tis a good thing ye have that warrior’s stamina then. Tell me about these long, childhood rides of yers.”
Rob began to recount the memories that came to mind, one story ebbing and flowing into the next as if there was no beginning or end. As they rode, their bodies relaxed more against each other, the steady trot of the horse rocking them in a rhythm that kept his blood hot and flowing within him, though most of it gathered in one place. Kenna either paid it no mind or was yet to realize it, for soon her breaths grew heavy and slow and Rob knew she was asleep.
* * *
The day came and went, and night was upon them again when they were finally close enough to Aberdeen to be given a true break. The Queen, still a bit fearful, disallowed the lighting of fires or the unfurling of the few tents that were not back on the carts—her guards even warned them all against raising their voices above a whisper—but the atmosphere of the party was still light now that everyone knew they would be getting a bit of rest.
Though most of the men were eager to sleep, Hugh passed out small handfuls of berries and wild kale that he had gone off to find during the day. Some of the men teased that they would have preferred he bring the rabbit rather than the rabbit’s food, eliciting a few laughs that earned them a warning from a passing guard. Hugh laughed along before admitting that he had made the attempt but had been having poor luck hunting. Nonetheless, they all ate what they were offered and sat back in the grass satisfied, the dull aches in their bellies now comfortably eased.
Kenna, the only one in the Fraser party to have gotten any rest, tried to volunteer to be the watch, but Rob quickly forbade it, telling her that she wouldn’t know what to look for even if it slapped her in the face. Silently, he repeated his apologies to her for the real reason he couldn’t allow it.
When morning came, the party gathered themselves up once more, this time a bit of anticipation rippling through them. Aberdeen was only a couple of hours away. Before any of them knew it, they could see large clusters of stone buildings ahead, and the dirt road beneath them turned into a pattern of cobblestones.
“Have ye ever been to Aberdeen?” Rob asked Kenna, who had stubbornly returned to her own horse.
“Once. My father negotiated some sort of trade deal.”
“Wine?” Murtagh asked her, kicking his horse ahead eagerly to hear her answer.
All of the men had enjoyed the wine stores Alexander Gordon had gathered in Inverness, but few had held it in as high of an esteem as Murtagh.
“How did ye ken?” Kenna asked, casting him a suspicious sidelong glance.
Murtagh was far too busy laughing to answer.
As the party entered Aberdeen, the clans slowly feathered away, a wordless dissolve as they permeated through the city. Rob’s father led the Frasers down a side street just before they reached the center of town, taking them through a maze of roads and back alleys until they finally came to a stop outside of a large inn. A couple of young boys rushed out to meet them, urging their horses toward a section of stables at the back while an older, crouched gentlemen emerged to greet Rob’s father.
“We are staying here?” Kenna asked Rob as she glanced up and down the quiet street. “Not with the rest of the Queen’s court?”
“Aye, lass. There is no place large enough to house us all. The Queen canna even find a place large enough to accommodate more than her very inner circle in Aberdeen. Most of the clans will rely on the charity of merchants and distant relatives to house them after all of the inns fill up, if they haven’t already. But my father is friends with this innkeeper. A bit of advance notice and he always sets the rooms aside,” Rob replied as he dismounted and led their two horses into the stable.
“I’m off to find Ellen,” Hugh called to them.
Rob responded with a simple wave before he wrapped his hands around Kenna’s waist and pulled her down beside him, flushing as her body brushed up against his.
“Ellen?”
“Yer sister-in-law. Hugh’s wife,” Rob replied, taking a cautious step backward when Kenna did not.
“She is here in Aberdeen?”
“Aye, she and my sister were both sent here when word spread that the Queen was bringing her court north.”
“Yer sister as well? Oh, I see.”
Rob saw a flash of anxiety cross her blue eyes.
“No need to be nervous.” Rob smiled as he hooked his arm through hers and began to lead her back through the streets toward the center of town. “They’re probably with the rest of the courtesans, gathered outside of wherever the Queen has decided to rest her head.”
As they went deeper and deeper into town, it was as if the traveling party rematerialized around them, dusty, tired Highlanders all emerging from the various side streets they had all disappeared down such a short time ago, but with fresh springs to their step. The growing enthusiasm was only encouraged when the steady thrum of music and laughter began to echo through the streets, joined by an assortment of sweet smells.
At long last, they rounded a corner, and the source of the temptations was discovered. Courtesans, dressed in every color of the rainbow, had taken to the streets to greet their queen and the army of loyal Highlanders she had gathered around her.
The crowd was fully invested in celebrating their queen’s return from her journey, no matter how bleak the news was that returned with her. Wine was being poured by the cask and servants circled trays of meats, cheese, and pastries of every shape and color. Ladies were weaving flowers into their hair as if they were fine jewels. Men called for women’s favors, catching brightly colored ribbons and handkerchiefs as they drifted through the breeze and tying them to the tips of their spears. Tucked along the outskirts of the crowd were singers and musicians, the French and Scottish songs intermingling in the air to create a somehow sweet chorus for the afternoon.
It was court at its absolute best, and Rob embraced the joviality as the first good omen he had been afforded in days. He took up a pair of oatcakes from a wondering tray, handing one to Kenna, who beamed at him. Th
e second good omen.
“Rob!” a high-pitched voice called happily over the crowd. “Robert Fraser!”
A tall, pretty lass only a couple of years younger than he emerged from the crowd. Her red hair was filled with ornate braids and bluebells, and her smile was as bright as a summer’s day. She rushed toward him and threw her arms around him with a squeal of delight. Rob lifted her from her feet and twirled her a couple of times before she clapped him on the back and begged him to stop with a laugh.
“Look at ye men, all returning to court as if ye’d already put down the rebellion,” she teased.
“Look at ye lasses, throwing a welcome party as if we had,” Rob returned.
“What else do we lasses have to think about since we are robbed of the chance to wage war? We do not get to play with swords and spears, just gossip and—” She pivoted to face Kenna with a lopsided smirk. “—marriages.”
“News travels faster than men in the Highlands, I see. Florence, I have the pleasure of introducing ye to my wife, Kenna. Kenna, my younger sister, Florence.”
Kenna, whose eyes were as round and nervous as a deer caught in a clearing, gave a stiff curtsey. “A pleasure to meet—Woo!”
Florence rushed at Kenna and pulled her into a tight embrace. Kenna, her own arms pinned to her sides, shot Rob an alarmed look as Florence began to rock them back and forth while cooing, “The Lord has finally blessed me with another sister! I never thought this day would come!”
“Florence,” Rob said with an uncomfortable laugh, “ye ken ye already have a sister-in-law. Don’t make such a show.”
“Oh aye, I ken I have a sister-in-law,” Florence said with a grumble. She pulled out of the embrace ever so slightly and reached up to play with Kenna’s dark curls. “But now I have a second. And—do not speak of word of this to Ellen, of course—I hope you will be better company.”
“Florence—”
“Well, Rob, I am sure ye will not disagree with me. Ye’ll see, Kenna. Ellen is a fine lass, but she can be a bit of a bore. How a lass like that wandered into Hugh’s bed before being locked up in a marriage contract, I’ll never ken.”
Rob hissed. “Christ, watch what ye say.”
Florence gestured to the music and thunderous noise of gaiety around them.
“If I was ever to gossip, the hour is nigh. Anyway, I wonder where Ellen is. Ye ought to be introduced with due haste. Hugh must have dragged her off already. Rob, surely ye have something important ye must go and handle while Kenna and I take on the most pressing task of growing better acquainted.”
There were several things he could be off doing—gathering up the men and helping them take stock of their supplies; joining the rest of the lairds as they strategized their next move against the Earl of Huntly; tracking down a pair of clean clothes and a bath… But none of them was an impromptu celebration on a rare, beautiful fall afternoon with Kenna.
“Aye, but—”
“Then off ye go to do it!” Florence gave him a knowing smile as she linked arms with Kenna and spun her away. “Kenna, I must tell ye, my brother is naturally a bit of a lazy spirit. If ‘tis not hunting or fishing or fighting, then ye must give him a swift kick in the arse to get him moving. Do ye like wine? Ye must have some. The Queen loves French wine, so the Aberdeen merchants have ordered some excellent vintages and—”
Rob stood, dumbfounded, as the pair of women disappeared into the crowd of merrymakers, Florence’s words becoming too caught in the sounds of the party to be heard from where he stood.
8
“Kenna, try this one!” Florence urged, pressing yet another pastry into Kenna’s hand.
It tasted like a summer evening: sweet, tangy, and rich. Kenna nearly shivered in delight.
“‘Tis been so long since I had a French tart.”
“Aye. Scots everywhere moan about having shared our Queen with the French court fer so long, but they must admit that it has blessed us in certain ways.” Florence took a bite from her own berry tart, rolling her eyes up to the sky with pleasure.
The pair had taken a culinary tour of the celebration, skipping from sweet to savory and back with every step they took, flagging down servants with trays heaped with whatever they were yet to try. Florence was a whirlwind, throwing smiles, greetings, and good cheer at any who came close, yet she kept a tight, comfortable grip on Kenna’s arm, whispering little secrets and gossip into her ear.
Kenna felt transported back to Inverness, to Elizabeth and the ladies who had been her closest companions for so long. The Fraser men were fun and welcoming, so much so that she hadn’t even comprehended how sorely she missed female companionship, but spending some time with Florence was like a drop of rain in a drought all the same.
Florence was leading them toward a servant carrying buttery shortbread when a male courtier nearly knocked them both over. He slurred some apologies through a thick English accent, dropping into dramatically low bows, which splashed his wine all across the ground.
Florence glowered. “Leave it to an Englishman to have such foul behavior. I wonder why Queen Mary welcomes them into her court. Oh! Look, he spilled wine on yer dress!”
Sure enough, a large red stain was sinking into the wool toward the bottom of Kenna’s skirt. She wondered how many dresses she would lose to wine before the turn of the season.
“‘Tis fine, Florence, do not give him chase. I am filthy from the road anyway. Another stain is unlikely to worsen my appearance much more than the dust has already done.”
Another drunken man bumped against Florence’s back, nearly knocking her into Kenna.
“Honestly, do they ken that it is barely midday? Come on,” Florence said.
“Where are we going?”
“Back to the inn to change and find superior entertainment. This party has reached the dregs.”
They were back at the inn before Kenna processed that there was nothing for her to change into other than another heavy brown riding dress, which was nearly just as dirty as the one she was currently in. The rest of her clothes and all of her finer things were on a cart somewhere in the middle of the Highlands, still a few days away from their arrival in Aberdeen.
“This is the only dress ye grabbed?” Florence admonished when Kenna finally emerged from her room and explained the situation wearing the slightly less stained dress.
“There wasn’t much time to think about it,” Kenna replied, noting the heat rushing to her face.
In retrospect, Kenna knew she should have considered the possibility of looking like a woman of noble birth instead of just relying on the pair of dresses that had been her uniform since leaving Inverness. She had still been so perturbed by Rob’s kiss and embarrassed at how intimately he had rubbed her with ointments and salves, that her mind hadn’t been thinking clearly.
“No, I suppose not. Go back into yer room, and I will bring ye something more appropriate fer court.”
Kenna returned to the small room and sat on the straw mattress, enjoying the soft touch of the green quilt that was draped over it. Her and Rob’s things had already been brought in and unpacked—little as there was—before they had returned from the celebration. It had been odd to open the small chest at the foot of the bed to find her dress rolled alongside one of Rob’s shirts.
This is the way of things now. There is no need to be dramatic about it, she thought.
There was a light knock on the door, and Kenna turned just in time to see a new woman emerge. Her hair was nearly as dark as Kenna’s, though the darkness was contrasted by a few locks that seemed almost red when the light from the window hit it, although the rich redness of her simple linen dress may have been aiding the illusion. Her skin was perfectly fair, surely the envy of other noblewomen who would need to puff powder onto their face for hours to achieve a similar complexion. Her amber eyes looked as if they had been flicked with gold dust and they roved over Kenna appraisingly.
Kenna stood, facing this beautiful stranger with a question already formed on he
r lips. But before she could voice it aloud, Florence poked her head in from behind the woman.
“I knew ye two would be about the same size.”
Florence slipped past the woman and held up a blue dress, which was a nearly identical cut to the beautiful woman’s red. When she held it up to Kenna, she could see that the fit would be just about perfect.
“Oh, by the way, Kenna, this is Ellen. She has been married to my brother Hugh fer—What has it been? A year now?”
“Aye, we celebrated our anniversary at the start of summer,” Ellen said with a ghost of a smile on her lips, her eyes breaking away from Kenna to travel around the sparse room while Florence pulled at the laces holding on her brown dress.
“Right,” Florence confirmed as she helped Kenna shimmy out of the brown wool. “Anyway, Ellen, this is Kenna, Rob’s new wife.”
“Married fer just over a week,” Kenna added, eliciting a small giggle from Florence as she helped Kenna step into the blue dress.
Ellen only gave a small smirk. “‘Tis a feat to marry Rob; he has always seemed so set against the concept.”
“Well, the Queen didn’t leave much room fer objection,” Kenna replied as Ellen’s eyes flicked back to her and Florence did up the laces on the blue dress. Something in her stare was unnerving and, for a reason she could not quite understand, she added, “Fer both of us.”
“I see, yet still a blessing, to be sure,” Ellen said with a smile that Kenna could easily identify as false.
“Perfect!” Florence exclaimed, circling back to Kenna’s front so she could adjust the fabric here and there until it was to her liking. “Ye two are the same size. Hourglasses. What witches ye both are fer not sharing a bit of yer busts with the rest of us. ‘Tis a crime to yer fellow women.”
Ellen’s smile changed, and Kenna wondered how anyone could have mistaken her false smile for a true one. Her true smile lit her entire face, making the gold in her eyes sparkle and her nose crinkle ever so slightly.
Highlander's Haunted Past (Highlander's Seductive Lasses Book 1) Page 9
