Soul Of A Highlander (Lairds of Dunkeld Series) (A Medieval Scottish Romance Story)

by Emilia Ferguson

  However, Fraser wasn't finished – not quite. He reached forward and grabbed the man's shoulders again, shaking him. “You think you can threaten people, but hear this. I have powerful friends too. And they will ensure you are exiled life-long if you harm anyone again. You are warned.”

  The count went red again. He tried to laugh, but his breath was still catching in his throat and he doubled over, coughing. “Who...you?” he said, drawing in a breath.

  “I'm the same rank as you are,” Fraser said bluntly. “And I'll use that against you if I hear you threaten anyone again.”

  Just then, there was a clatter in the hallway. Julian and Henri looked at each other, then at him. “Trouble, sir,” Julian said.

  “Yes,” Fraser agreed, thinking for the first time that perhaps he ought to have believed the count after all.

  “Let's go, quickly.” Henri, walking toward the door.

  “Yes.”

  Fraser, Henri and Julian went to the door, leaving the count behind them.

  In the hallway, they met a scene of chaos. Men with swords were running down the hallway. Fraser gestured to the men to flatten themselves against the wall. They waited.

  The sound of booted feet went softer and then died. He nodded to them. “All clear,” he said.

  Henri nodded. “What was that?”

  Fraser shrugged.

  “No matter,” Julian suggested evenly. “Let's go.”

  They ran.

  Heading the opposite way as the direction the armed men had come from, they ran up the hallway. They found themselves facing a turret.

  “Wrong way,” Henri suggested. Fraser cursed.

  “Quite so. Back the other way.” He had an idea. “Let's take off the cloaks. Draw swords.”

  “They're looking for us, three cloaked and hooded men,” Julian said.

  They all agreed and nodded, shedding their disguises. The men were looking for three black-cowled strangers. They were not expecting three armed men who may or may not be new recruits to the garrison. They drew their swords and ran down the hallway behind them.

  They caught up with the group of men as they massed on the stairs.

  “They can't have got far,” one of them said.

  “Search the upper hallway,” another man called out. “They were heading that way.”

  “No they weren't,” someone argued. “They went into the hall. For all we know, they're still in there.”

  “Split up,” an older, commanding voice suggested. “Off we go.”

  The group split. Fraser looked at his companions. They nodded.

  The three of them ran to the gate.

  “They're getting away!” Fraser yelled.

  “After them!” Henri, copying his ruse, shouted.

  “We saw them!” Julian added.

  The sentries on the gate looked down, bewildered.

  “Get moving!” Fraser reinforced the command. The sentries opened the gate.

  As they charged out, swords waving, yelling encouraging things about having seen the intruders head this way, one of the sentries yelled aloud. “That's them!”

  He was pointing at the three of them.

  Fraser froze. Henri froze beside him. Julian stopped.

  “To the treeline!”

  They all ran.

  The first arrows rattled through the trees as they blended into the woodlands together.

  Fraser ran as if his legs were not part of his body, as if he was unable to tire, as if he did this every day. He didn't. His lungs were burning by the time they stopped.

  “Whew.”

  Fraser spat, his lungs burning as he drew one breath after another. Henri sat down and Julian leaned against a tree-trunk.

  “We lost – horses...” Henri said sadly.

  “I know,” Fraser commented. He hadn't brought his own horse, but the hired one, for which he was grateful. He was sure they'd be cared for. However, it left them unassisted.

  “Walk?” Julian said.

  “Hide?” Henri suggested.

  “We need to get out of here fast,” Fraser countered. “We should find a path.”

  “Yes.”

  They were walking along a path when they heard the hunting horns. The count had sent out men to scour the woods for them.

  “Run!” Julian said.

  “Hide?” Fraser suggested.

  “Wait. Sniff!” Henri said. He drew in a breath, testing the air.

  They all stared at him as if he had gone mad for a few seconds. Perhaps he had. Nonetheless, Fraser did as he suggested. He took a breath. And smelled smoke. “Charcoal burners!” he exclaimed.

  “Yes!” Henri agreed.

  “We'll hide with them.” Fraser was already moving.

  They hid in an abandoned hut as the first horsemen streamed past. They lay on the filthy floor, concealed from view amidst wood-sacks and piles of ash.

  “It smells bad in here,” Julian whispered.

  “Hush,” Fraser said promptly. “It could save your life.”

  They all lay still and listened to the sound of hoofs streaming past. Fraser was amazed by the sheer number the count had sent against them. The man must be furious. He heard horns and perhaps twenty horses, but luckily, no hounds. If they had set hunting dogs on the trail, there was no way they could escape. However, with humans, a disguise would be enough. With their cheeks covered in soot, sacks on their backs, they took to the road.

  It was nightfall by the time they arrived at the village.

  Weary, cold and footsore, they were elated. They had succeeded.

  All they had to do now was get back home to Bernadette.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  RETURN TO SAFETY

  RETURN TO SAFETY

  Bernadette heard hoof-beats in the courtyard. She sat up quickly. Her head still hurt a little, though it had been two days since she had been poisoned. She ran to the window, looking out over the sill.

  “Amelia!” she called. “It's them! They're back.”

  She ran down to the hall.

  Standing on the steps, she faced Fraser. He was looking down at his hands, but then he looked up and saw her. He grinned. “Bernadette!”

  “Fraser!”

  She had long since ceased to care about the servants and their prying, about the guests and their wondering. She ran to him.

  “Bernadette!” His face cracked into a grin and she saw relief in those dark eyes. She smiled and, amazing herself, kissed him in front of everyone.

  “Fraser,” she said. “Praise Heaven you're safe.”

  He embraced her, almost lifting her off her feet as he returned the kiss. It was a passionate, longing kiss and when they moved back, she caught sight of Henri. He was looking at them with complete bemused wonder on his face. She sighed.

  “Lord Fraser. Welcome. Please, come inside. And Henri, Julian...thank you. Most sincerely.”

  She had the pleasure of seeing the two guards embarrassed. Henri coughed and Julian fidgeted. “We didn't do anything, madam.”

  “It was nothing.”

  She smiled. Fraser laughed. “That's what they say, milady. You should have seen them.”

  “I can imagine,” Bernadette said with a smile. “Now come inside, all of you. I want to hear all about it.”

  The men-at-arms split off from the group, bowing to Bernadette and heading to the great hall, where, she was sure, they had their own welcomes and discussions planned. She waited for Fraser, who walked behind her wearily and followed her up the stairs to the solar.

  “I'm so glad you're recovered,” he said softly. “I was worried that...”

  “Oh, Fraser,” she interrupted him. “I'm so glad you're safe.”

  They smiled at each other and kissed again. She felt his tongue slide gently into her mouth. She held him close and knew that she’d never felt quite as contented as she did in that moment. Her heart flipped over and she pressed her body against his, wishing she need never let go of him again.

  Bernadette had planne
d a meal for their return and called the servants to lay it out. Claudine, Francis and Nicolene all joined them at the table. While they ate, Fraser discussed his journey.

  “And it seems as if the count will listen,” he finished. “If nothing else, he knows now that we know, and we won't let him get away with this.”

  Bernadette nodded. She felt a sweet satisfaction that someone had gone to such great lengths to ensure her safety. It was so moving to know that he cared so deeply for her. She watched him where he sat at the table. His handsome profile was lit by the sunlight that poured through the high windows and he looked relaxed and contented.

  “You think it would be wise for the lady to borrow some of our guardsmen?” Francis suggested.

  Fraser smiled. “I don't know. That depends on the lady. Bernadette?”

  Bernadette smiled happily. “Thank you, Fraser. I believe it would be a sensible idea.”

  He nodded. “Well, then. You have your answer.”

  Francis looked from one to the other of them and grinned.

  “What?” Bernadette asked.

  He shrugged. “Nothing.”

  Bernadette felt her heart glowing with happiness as she looked down at her plate to hide her smile. It was such a pleasure to have Fraser back again.

  Later, they talked. Francis and Claudine were walking in the gardens with their child. The maids had cleared away the remains of dinner and the sun was setting slowly beyond the high, arched windows. Bernadette sat beside Fraser on the settee.

  “So,” he said. He was looking at her with a peculiar intensity in his gaze.

  “So?”

  Bernadette could feel her heart thumping against the tight fabric of her bodice. He was close and the feeling of his warm body just inches away from her made her tingle with excitement. She looked fondly into his eyes.

  “So?” he asked again, “what of us, eh?”

  Bernadette smiled and looked at her hands where they rested on the brown velvet of her skirts. “What of us?” she repeated. She could feel a sweet, rising joy in her belly and she knew what he meant, what he was asking her.

  “When will you agree to my suggestion?”

  “Your suggestion?” Bernadette asked. She raised her eyes to meet his. They danced with warmth.

  “My suggestion that we join our houses into one,” he said. His voice sounded raw and hers was tight with feeling when she replied.

  “I do,” she managed.

  “You do what?” he pressed.

  She laughed. “I agree!”

  Then they were both laughing, and tears were rolling down her cheeks as she stared into that handsome, infuriating, well-loved face.

  “Well, then,” Fraser said with a smile. “Shall we have the wedding at my estate? Or yours?”

  “That depends upon whom we wish to invite,” Bernadette said quickly. She knew what would be the more sensible choice: to hold the wedding here in Evreux, in the small chapel beside the estate. Then their best friends – Claudine and Francis – could attend.

  He smiled. “I see you have made plans.”

  “No!” she said, blushing to be found out. She giggled as he leaned over and smiled into her eyes. His hands moved to her shoulders and he leaned forward and kissed her on the lips.

  She leaned back, and his kiss was exploratory and she let her lips part to admit his probing tongue, as he pressed her back down to the settee. Her heart raced as their bodies pressed close.

  He sat back, his face contorted with need.

  She smiled up at him and he chuckled. “Well! I can't say I won't be pleased when we finally get wed,” he said. “It's been too long, Bernadette!”

  She nodded. It had indeed.

  “And you don't mind?” Fraser asked her, frowning.

  “Mind what?”

  “That I'm, well...half Scottish?”

  Bernadette stared at him. “Of course I don't!” she protested. “I like it. I like you just as you are, Lord Fraser. Every small detail.”

  She was surprised to see his face utterly bleak. He looked as if he might cry.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I don't know,” he said tightly. “I suppose I...I'm used to the idea that people wouldn't approve of that.”

  Bernadette shook her head in amazement. “You silly man. You dear, silly man.”

  He smiled at her. “Good,” he said.

  “Good?”

  “I'm glad that was silly.”

  She laughed and kissed him again.

  His mouth on hers was gentle and she realized, like herself, he did not want to go too far for fear of forestalling their vows. The intense chastity of the kiss made it, if anything, more irresistible.

  They decided they would have the wedding in two weeks' time. That would give her time to have a dress made, and for the banquet to be prepared.

  “And I wish to have things settled at Remy Castle as well,” he said.

  “At Remy?” Bernadette frowned.

  “Well,” he grinned. “I know I will have to share you with your estate, but I would like to invite you to spend six months of the year with me, at Remy. I promise we will spend the other half with you.”

  Bernadette looked into his eyes and felt a big smile spread right through her and light her own face from within.

  “You've made plans, haven't you?” she said, teasing him in the same vein in which he'd teased her earlier.

  “No,” he said with a stiff face, though his eyes sparkled warmly. “What makes you think that?”

  Bernadette laughed and they collapsed, laughing and shrieking, onto the settee together. His mouth met hers and they kissed. Bernadette closed her eyes, feeling the sweetness of longing grow inside her, rising up and growing and filling her, spreading from her toes to her head and suffusing her with happiness. They would be wed in two weeks. Then they would learn all they had longed to know of one another. She could wait – just – until then.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  WEDDING AND FESTIVITIES

  WEDDING AND FESTIVITIES

  Bernadette stood on the steps of the chapel. She looked to her left, where Fraser, Count of Remy, stood beside her. He was dressed in a dark blue tunic and brown trews, the cloak that hung down his back a rich, deep blue. His hair was glossed with brushing and he looked, frankly, stunning.

  My husband.

  She still couldn't quite believe that was true. He was here with her and he was her husband. They were man and wife.

  The servants and village-folk were vociferous in their praise of them. Bernadette felt touched by the shouts of congratulation and joy when they appeared on the steps together. She winced, grinning, as they started to throw nuts and petals at them. After all, they were meant to promote fertile marriages, but she had little desire to be hit on the head with a chestnut, so she gathered her skirts in one hand and, with Fraser holding her other, they ran, laughing, through the hail of chestnuts and to the waiting carriage.

  They collapsed, laughing and breathless, into it. They would take a short ride to the house and there sit down to a banquet with their guests.

  Then we will both go upstairs.

  Bernadette had declined the idea of a bedding ceremony – she knew that, as the count, Fraser could require one. It was traditional for at least two attendants to be upstairs in their chamber with them, to ensure that the son she bore was the count's own issue. However, neither of them wished it.

  She sat down at the table opposite Claudine, who sat with Francis and sipped cordial, her sweet smile twinkling when she looked at Bernadette.

  Bernadette smiled back silently.

  “Auntie?” Nicolene asked.

  “Mm?” She smiled at the young girl.

  “You look pretty. Can I have a pretty dress like that?”

  Bernadette smiled at her, surprised at the lengthy statement. “One day, dearest.”

  She looked down at her dress. It was a simple one of blue linen so fine that it felt silk-soft to the touch. It was decorated with emb
roidery and the veil was gauze so airy she felt as if it barely existed. The dress had a tight bodice and a “v” shaped waist. The skirt was wide and flowing and made a long train behind her.

  “You look beautiful,” Fraser seconded. He reached out and stroked her hair, which was loose, as befitted a young bride, but in which she had woven two plaits and a crown of orange-blossom.

  “Thank you, Fraser. You do too.”

  He laughed. “I'm not sure I do you justice, my dearest. In any case, I will be glad to get out of these heavy robes,” he added, indicating the velvet tunic he wore beneath the heavy cloak.

  The words made Bernadette blush.

  He caught the expression and grinned. She drew a breath.

  When would the meal end?

  It was dark outside by the time the guests had finally taken their fill of the fruit loaf and marzipan that were the traditional desserts for the wedding. Bernadette looked around. Claudine looked sleepy. Nicolene had been taken upstairs by the maidservant a few hours before. Francis was leaning back, his hands laced over his belly. He looked content. She glanced at Fraser.

  He whispered. “Shall we..?”

  She nodded.

  They both stood.

  “Lords and ladies! Friends!” Fraser said in a loud voice, guaranteed to get the attention of anyone, even those who had imbibed overmuch of good wine. “I thank you for your attendance. Now, I think we are all weary. I invite you all to go to your chambers and rest.”

  The guests all cheered, banging on the table, shouting congratulations.

  Bernadette felt her cheeks burn as she realized what they were thinking – they knew the newlyweds wished to go upstairs to have time for themselves. But what mattered it? It was their wedding night, after all. That was their prerogative.

  The hall emptied slowly. Then they were the only guests. Bernadette looked into his eyes.

  Fraser smiled. His eyes glowed with the stirrings of longing she was feeling. He leaned in closer. “Shall we?” he asked again.

  “Yes.”

  His lips stroked hers. She closed her eyes. She felt his tongue part them gently and sighed as he took a taste. He pushed in further and she let him, her lips parting willingly as he probed the warmth of her mouth.