His Tarnished Ruby

by Kelsey McKnight

  “I can’t,” Gwen moaned, pushing it away.

  “Well, I’m not having this go to waste.” He pulled the cup toward him and swallowed it in one gulp. “Ah, yes. That should help my headache significantly.”

  “Should it?” Flora wasn’t convinced.

  “Honestly, you doubt my knowledge concerning the alcoholic arts?” He clasped his hands to his chest, his eyes raised to the heavens. “Dear Flora, you wound me!”

  “Oh, stop it.” She swatted his arm. “Have you seen Andrew?”

  “No, I haven’t.” Charlie picked through the platters set before him, piling his plate with food. “I will say that there were two rather large men outside his door this morning when I came in to change.”

  “You didn’t sleep in your own rooms last night?” Gwen asked, looking a bit scandalized, her eyes wide. “What of Penelope’s cousin Matthew?”

  Charlie sighed. “This story isn’t about me, dear Gwendolyn, it’s about Andrew. As I was saying, there was a pair of burly Scotsmen who appeared to have been there overnight. I invited both in for a nightcap, but they were somewhat uninterested in my offer.”

  “It was Conner,” Flora mumbled.

  “Oh no, darling, I would never invite Conner into my rooms.” Charlie chuckled.

  Flora rolled her eyes. “No, I was saying that Conner must have put them there. How positively ghastly. He doesn’t trust either of us.”

  “Well, can you blame him?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I’m going to ignore that comment. Now, were they still there when you came down, just now?”

  “No, they were gone.”

  Gwen nibbled the corner of a piece of toast and stood. “I suppose I should see how things are progressing in the kitchen. Come for me if anything happens.”

  Flora watched Gwen leave and disappear into the doorway that led into the kitchens below. Then she turned to Charlie, who was devouring his fourth egg. She was happy to finish her meal in their shared silence. It was very rare that she got a moment of peace, especially when Charlie was around, but she found his company comforting and sure. No matter his faults, he was always there when she needed him. But Andrew…

  “I think I’ll go for a walk,” she announced suddenly, rising from her seat.

  “I would offer to accompany you, but I know you’re going off to find Andy.” He dumped more sausage onto his plate. “I knocked on his door before I came down, so I don’t think he’s in his room.”

  Flora thanked Charlie then left the great hall, going to search for Andrew. On a hunch, she strolled through the corridors toward Conner’s library. She pushed the door open and saw Andrew seated before the fire, a book in his hands. She stood there a moment, just watching him read. He was transfixed upon the volume, his brow slightly creased, and sometimes he mouthed the words, as if tasting them on his tongue. While not the shirt-ripping, sword-wielding, kilt-wearing men of her youth, his studious nature appealed to her greatly.

  Flora let out a soft sigh and Andrew’s eyes flickered to her. “Flora, I didn’t see you there.” She saw him slip her gray ribbon into the book to mark his place before closing it. She wasn’t aware he had kept it.

  “I wasn’t here long. I just wanted to see if you were all right.” Her eyes were still on the book. She thought it rather flattering he had kept something so small.

  “Yes, why wouldn’t I be?”

  Flora sat down in the seat opposite him, her back straight, as Penelope’s would have been, and her hands laid down gracefully in her lap. “Charlie told me there were men outside your room.”

  “Yes, but they didn’t bother me. Your brother had told me he was having me watched and I really expected nothing less than an armed guard.”

  “That’s so like him.” She shook her head. “Reading anything good?”

  He shrugged and placed it on the table beside him. “Nothing of great importance. Are you here for any book in particular?”

  “No, I just came here…for you,” she admitted. But realizing how odd that sounded, she said, “I mean, I just wanted to see how you were getting on in the castle.”

  “Quite well. Everyone has been exceedingly welcoming.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. And your rooms?”

  Andrew smiled. “Is there something you’d like to speak to me about, Flora?”

  “No, I’m actually just procrastinating to be perfectly honest,” she admitted, thinking of Gwen down in the kitchens. “Gwen is probably wondering where I am, and the last thing I wish to be doing is cooking.”

  “Then I suppose this is as good a place as any to hide.”

  “She’ll find me soon enough. Now that she cares for the accounts, she’s in here a good amount.”

  “If she does spot you, I’ll do my best to persuade her that your presence with me is necessary.”

  “On what grounds?”

  “Cultural translation?”

  “Since that will never work, at least tell me about the book you’re reading. I need something fresh on my mind for when Gwen puts me to work.”

  “Certainly. Let’s see….” He picked up the book and placed it thoughtfully in his lap. “This particular volume is on the Picts of ancient Scotland. Fascinating people, as you probably know. Well, this book only goes back…”

  There was more, but Flora wasn’t really listening. She was quite familiar with that specific book, as it was for her that it was originally bought. What was really catching her attention was the way Andrew spoke with such confidence and warmth about such a bland topic. His voice was almost melodic and it comforted her to listen. She could easily imagine long nights by the fire in their own home, speaking of novels and him translating old texts and prose.

  “You aren’t paying any attention, are you?” Andrew asked, the corners of his lips rising.

  “You’ve caught me.” She giggled. “I was just listening to you talk…but not really, I suppose.”

  “How does one listen and not listen at the same time?”

  Flora thought back to their initial meetings, when he stumbled over his words. “Might I ask you something that might be considered terribly rude?”

  “Please do.”

  “When we first became acquainted at Penelope’s…event, you spoke…well…you had a terrible stutter.”

  He groaned. “Oh, that.”

  “Yes, but it seems that it’s gone. What happened?”

  “I didn’t ever have a stutter…not really, in any case.” He looked down at the worn cover in his hands, his thumb brushing over the embossed gold of the title. “It’s a terrible cliché, but I found myself utterly speechless in your presence. I thought of all sorts of interesting things I might say, but my mouth just couldn’t keep up with my mind. You must have thought me a complete idiot.”

  “Oh, never.”

  Andrew raised a brow.

  “Well, perhaps a little,” she confessed, feeling rather guilty on judging him so.

  “I’m glad to say that I’ve never been rendered completely incapable of forming a sentence before I met you.”

  “How flattering,” Flora teased. Then she glanced at the clock on the mantle and sighed. “I really should go help Gwen. She didn’t particularly order me to work, but I should be of more help to her as her sister.” She stood and fluffed out her skirts.

  He rose as well. “Shall I accompany you?”

  “Heavens, no. I’m only going down as a show of good faith. If I’m lucky, she’ll dismiss me on the grounds that my cooking is too terrible to be of any real help to her.”

  Andrew kissed her lightly on the cheek, sending Flora off with something pleasant to think of when she was elbow deep in pig meat and cow’s blood. She strode back down the corridor feeling light. Everything was going well. Her family was healthy and happy, Charlie was visiting and actually helping things along for once, Gwen had found a purpose, and Flora was opening her heart to Andrew, allowing them to grow closer. She thought she might have actually found her happily ever after at la
st.

  The feasting hall’s closed doors were in sight when a hand shot out of an alcove and pulled her into the shaded corner. She opened her mouth to scream, but a palm roughly pressed against her lips, muffling the sounds. The man wore a dark woolen cloak, the soaked hem dripping onto the floor. His face was shadowed, but Flora knew at once who it was.

  Jasper lifted his face into the dim light and smiled down at her. “If I lift my hand, do no’ yell out.”

  Once his hand was removed, Flora tried to back away, but he still clutched her other arm tightly. “Jasper, what are you doing here?”

  “I came back for ye.”

  “Conner said you would be killed if you returned to the Macleod lands.”

  “He won’t—he can’t. Everyone knows his wife would no’ let him shed blood,” he whispered eagerly. “We can be together.”

  “You’re married,” she spat, her heart racing with fear and anger.

  “He released my wife from our vows. I am free to wed, Flora. We can marry and be happy!” He pulled her closer. “Ye get a bit o’ land when ye marry, aye? We’ll have a nice little farm, the two o’ us.”

  Flora tried freeing herself, but the grip he had was too strong. She could feel his nails digging into her arm through the velvet fabric of her gown and knew there would be a bruise. “Please, let me go. You’re hurting me.”

  Jasper frowned and loosened his hold a bit, but not enough for Flora to make an escape. She wished she had accepted Andrew’s escort. None of this would have happened if he were with her.

  “Can I go, please?” she begged, feeling tears well in her eyes. “Please, Jasper.”

  His eyes flashed. “Ach, lass…I love how ye say my name.”

  Jasper bent down and pressed his lips roughly to hers. His mouth was wet and harsh and smelled harshly of liquor. She tried to pull away, but her struggles seemed to excite him all the more and he deepened their kiss. Her sobs were choking her then and she beat her fists against his chest, but his time away from the castle hadn’t ruined his muscular form and it was as if she punched stone.

  When Jasper was finally ripped away from her, she fell to the floor, crying loudly with her eyes closed, clutching her shawl around her. It took her a moment to gain the courage to open her eyes, but when she did, she saw Jasper dazed on the floor and Andrew standing over him, a candlestick in his hand and his eyes wide.

  Andrew dropped his impromptu weapon and dashed to Flora’s side. “Are you hurt? Did he hurt you? Tell me!”

  Flora couldn’t speak. Only frightful blubbering came out when she opened her mouth.

  “Come, let us find Conner.” Andrew was about to help her up when Jasper regained his senses.

  “Do no’ touch my woman,” Jasper croaked, rising unsteadily to his feet.

  Andrew stood to face him, blocking Flora with her body. “How dare you mishandle this lady? She is the sister of the MacLeod.”

  Jasper laughed darkly. “Aye, I know who she is. I know much more than anyone else in this castle.”

  “I sincerely doubt that.”

  Flora tried to quell her tears and brought herself shakily up to stand.

  “Flora, tell this man who I am,” Jasper ordered, pointing at Andrew.

  “I don’t care who you are. I am taking Flora to safety.” Andrew grabbed Flora’s hand firmly, but it didn’t scare her, it gave her courage. “You assaulted her innocence, and that will not stand.”

  “Innocence?” Jasper mimicked with a smirk. “There is nothin’ innocent about this lass. I had her already, so there’s no innocence to ruin.”

  Flora fell back against the wall, dropping Andrew’s hand. Her knees had given out and she resigned herself to sit on the floor and sob weakly into her shawl. Her greatest fears were coming true and she could do nothing to stop it. Her chance at love and happiness was being dashed before her very eyes.

  “How dare you besmirch Flora’s good name,” Andrew growled in a tone Flora had never known him to have.

  Jasper fingered the hilt of his dirk. “Like I said, I’ve already had the lass. I’m only tellin’ what she already knows to be true. She came crawlin’ to my bed like a common whore and—”

  There was a sickening crunch as Andrew’s fist made contact with Jasper’s nose. Flora stifled a shriek as he dropped to his knees, clutching his face.

  Then Andrew scooped Flora up like a bride and spirited her down the corridors until he came to the feasting hall. He kicked open the doors and his eyes darted around the room. “MacLeod!” he bellowed. “Where is the MacLeod!”

  Conner appeared at their side almost instantly. “What the hell happened?!”

  Andrew gently lowered her onto a bench before answering. “There was some man out in the corridor mishandling Flora. I think she’s in shock.”

  “Was it one o’ my men? Did ye recognize him?”

  “I haven’t seen him before, but she called him Jasper.”

  “That bloody…I’ll have his head.” Conner drew his sword. He was about to leave in search of his prey when the man entered, a grin on his face.

  “Good day, MacLeod,” Jasper crooned as he confidently strolled toward them, wiping the blood around his nose and mouth with a corner of his cloak.

  “What are ye doin’ here?” Conner roared. His sword hissed as he drew it from his sheath. “I spared your life and this is how ye repay me? Ye come back onto my lands and into my home and harm my sister?”

  “I’ve only come to collect what I’ve already claimed.”

  “There is naught in my lands that belongs to ye,” Conner told him sternly, brushing Charlotte’s hand off his arm as she tried to latch on. “I did what I thought was fair, but now I know ye will only listen to blood.”

  Andrew leaned down beside Flora, his jaw tense and his fists clenched. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded slightly and looked around at the silent feasting hall. Everyone was watching them, too interested—or frightened—to do anything else. She prayed Jasper wouldn’t repeat what he had told Andrew in the corridor, but knew she could never be so lucky. If she had learned anything in the last hour, it was that nothing would ever stay a secret in her life.

  “Ye’ve rid me o’ my wife and I’ve already had the lass as a husband would, so why no’ just make it official and bind us now?” Jasper crossed his arms over his chest, looking smug. “The only way to save her reputation is for me to marry her.”

  Flora thought she might be sick. Coercing Conner to agree to match by ways of copulation was originally her bright idea, but coming from Jasper’s mouth, it seemed like a disgusting form of blackmail. And she didn’t dare look at Andrew. Now he knew how used she was—tarnished and ruined. Flora knew he would be disgusted with her, but couldn’t bear to see it in his usually kind eyes.

  “How dare you,” Andrew spat, drawing near to Conner and Jasper. “How dare you say those things about Flora? A lady of noble breeding and character!”

  “Ach, ye know nothin’ o’ who she really is,” Jasper said. “But I know her inside and out.”

  Conner lunged toward him, but Andrew beat him to it. The mild-mannered Englishman gripped Jasper’s wet cloak with both hands. “I challenge you to a duel!”

  “A duel?” Jasper repeated. “I’d spear ye in an instant, ye British fob.”

  “No!” Charlotte shrieked. “No killing.”

  Conner glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. The pair had a short, telepathic connection before Conner turned back to the crowd. “Aye, we can no’ bring the stain o’ death to Martinmas, as it would anger the old gods and the new. But I will no’ wait to have ye fight, for I want Jasper gone at once. Ye may duel to first blood. And if ye lose, ye will be given to the ship captain that is currently docked at our port, guaranteein’ ye will never return to Scotland. And as a final shame to ye, I’ll have ye branded so all know ye can no’ be trusted.”

  “And if he loses?” Jasper nodded toward Andrew. “I say he must leave Scotland and forfeit Flora’s hand
by official decree.”

  Conner looked between the two. “Done.”

  Jasper held up his hand. “And I want land. Good farming land with a big house to support my wee wife.”

  “No’ my sister.”

  “Aye, your sister. She’s the reason we’re here. We fight for her.”

  Andrew shook his head roughly, fire in his eyes. “I will not stand for Flora being fought over like some manner of livestock. Wedding her in this manner for either of us would be cruel and ungentlemanly.”

  “Well, I am no gentleman,” Jasper spat. “In a duel we can lay out our own terms and these are mine. She is the prize I want to claim.”

  “You speak of her with such distain and disrespe—”

  “Ye know nothin’ o’ our ways, how we do things in the highlands. If ye no like it, then leave back to England.”

  Conner’s knuckles were white as he clutched the hilt of his sword. “It is done. The terms are announced and the fight is set. No more will be said of the matter.”

  Flora gripped her seat. She saw spots before her eyes and fought the urge to pass out. She still couldn’t speak. Her lips felt as if they were glued shut with terror and humiliation. Her old dream of forcing Conner’s hand to allow her to marry Jasper was coming to pass. But now that dream had morphed into a sick nightmare and she could not awaken.

  “Ye will fight at noon tomorrow,” Conner announced before gesturing to Jasper. “Take him to the dungeons. Make sure he does no’ leave.”

  Several men seized Jasper by the arm and began dragging him from the hall. Flora dared a glance in his direction, feeling sick as she saw that the smug smirk was still planted on his face. The rest of the gathering stared at her as if she were one of Conner’s jarred specimens, pickled and set out for them to gawk at.

  “Come,” Charlotte whispered, holding out her hand.

  Flora was still frozen in shock. She was aware of Conner’s curses, Charlotte’s concerned gaze, the crowd’s low titters, Andrew’s silent and blank observation. She wanted to run, run to the stables, ride to the train station, and leave Scotland behind for good. Yes, she wanted—needed—to flee, but couldn’t will her fingers to loosen their grip on the bench or her legs to move.