The Maid of Lorne

by TERRI BRISBIN

  If she were still here, Lara thought. “When did you find out who your real father was?”

  “When my mother died. Her husband gave me a few things she wanted me to have. I discovered who he was and where he lived.”

  “Did you go to him? Did he know of you?”

  He laughed. “Nay. I decided I would wait and make my own way in the world and not be beholden to a name. My stepfather gifted me with my first sword and he arranged for me to train with one of his cousins.”

  “And once you made a name for yourself, did you tell him?”

  A sad smile crossed his face. “Nay, Lara, for he died years ago without knowing that I was his son.”

  Saddened by this news of his solitary life, she felt tears gathering in her eyes. Lara reached up to wipe them away.

  “Here now, I did not mean to upset you with this.”

  “I think I am overwrought from the day’s events.”

  “And you need to rest. Close your eyes and let sleep come.”

  She did as he said, shutting her eyes and rolling onto her back. As she did every night, she moved over until she could feel his warmth. If he thought it strange with all that was between them, he did not hesitate to wrap himself around her, draping his arm over her waist and resting his chin on her head.

  With his heat seeping into her and his strong arm around her, Lara felt the call to sleep. She heard and felt his breathing become even and slow, and knew he was on the brink of sleep as well. The words escaped as she drifted off.

  “If I did not love you, none of this would be a problem.”

  A few miles away, off the coast on a boat hidden among the small islands in the Firth of Lorne, Eachann spoke with his uncle of their success.

  “You have a trinket then?”

  “Aye, Uncle. Lara brought it as she was told to.” He held out the small cross to him.

  “What was her reaction to my letter?” John of Lorne asked, taking it from him and slipping it into his tunic.

  “She was much pleased by it. She was about to bolt until I told her about you and gave it to her.”

  “Was she? Is she enamored of this bastard who married her?” he asked, shaking his head. “She is a weak woman, like her mother was. She just needs some guidance.”

  Eachann laughed and felt his cock harden at the thought of being the man who tamed his beautiful cousin’s willfulness.

  “I dinna care how much he has used her, Uncle. I want her when this is over.” If last night was any indication of her resistance and strength, it would take much to break her. He shuddered with pleasure at the thoughts of all he could do before finally killing her. She would scream…He reached for his cock, enraptured by the very thought of what would be.

  “Not yet, Eachann. Control yourself until we have what we want. Then she will be yours, since she will never be welcomed back.”

  “Yer pardon, Uncle,” Eachann said. He could wait. One thing he’d learned in his years as a spy was how to wait. And she would pay with her flesh for every day he waited. He pulled his thoughts back to their plan. “So, we will warn Invercreran, Glen Gour and Awe of the coming attacks?”

  His uncle’s mouth curved into a smile that made him nervous. “Nay. The bastard knows she told you something. She is not smart enough to have carried this spying off without having slipped up during this time. Knowing him, he already suspects her. So, we sacrifice the first two and let him doubt whether or not she gave you anything we could use. We will gather our forces and make him pay at Invercreran.”

  “Sacrifice them? But there are hundreds in those keeps.”

  “They will further our goals of reclaiming Dunstaffnage and defeating the Bruce’s forces. And no one will be the wiser for it.”

  “And Sebastien of Cleish? When do we remove him?”

  His uncle laughed. “Patience, Eachann. You will make certain to place this—” he patted the place where the cross was stored “—on one of our men, who will live just long enough to claim that Sebastien of Cleish told us the battle plans. Once James Douglas or the Campbells hear of it, it will take him out of the game.”

  “But Douglas is his friend.”

  “Ah, but he is first the Bruce’s man. If he suspects Sebastien of anything, he will take it to the Bruce. If the Campbells find this proof, they will proceed with it, for they hunger for Dunstaffnage almost as much as we do. Either way, he will find himself charged with treason and most likely executed before he ever realizes we were behind it.”

  Eachann thought on the plan and smiled. “And then I get her.”

  “Aye, Eachann, the stupid bitch is yours.”

  She ached from head to toe when she opened her eyes in the morning. Well, her eye, since the other one was swollen shut from the blow to her face. Groping across the bed, she discovered that Sebastien was already gone.

  Lara lay back down and thought on his words last evening as he’d spoken of his childhood. When she considered what he’d told her, she decided mayhap making his own way was better than being claimed by one family. He was not bound by anything but his conscience and his honor. He answered to no one but to those whom he chose. There was a certain attractiveness to such a life when she thought of her own dilemma.

  Tied to her family no matter the cause or the argument.

  She wished she had someone to share her thoughts with and to discuss matters such as these. The only one close enough to her was her mother’s sister, but she had not seen her in over three years. Sitting up now, she slid to the side of the bed and climbed out. Margaret responded as always at her first movements and opened the door.

  And dropped the tray she carried onto the floor with a loud crash.

  “Oh, my lady!” she cried out as she knelt down to pick up the broken jug and bowls. “Your face…your face!”

  Surmising that she looked worse than she felt, and she felt poorly, Lara knew she would be staying in her chambers for the day. Going to help Margaret clean up the steaming porridge from the floor, she gasped as three heavily armed guards rushed up the stairs and into her chambers. Before she could give an explanation, they drew their weapons.

  Sir Hugh followed a moment behind them, sword drawn and ax in hand, and then Sebastien only a few steps behind him. Margaret looked up at the fierce warriors before her and fainted to the floor. When Lara tried to catch her, they all moaned as they caught sight of her face.

  “Here now,” Sebastien said as he hurried to help her. “What has happened?” He, too, paused and glanced at her injured cheek before lifting the maid into his arms and passing her off to Sir Hugh, who stood behind him.

  “You should have warned me or them about my face.”

  “Truly, it did not look this bad before. ‘Tis only full daylight that brings out all the colors.”

  She thought he might be trying to jest, but his horrified expression matched those of the other men, and she shrugged. “I would have thought that this bruise would be nothing to battle-hardened warriors like yourselves. There is not even a trace of blood.” She touched her swollen cheek and they hissed as though in pain.

  “Blood is no’ a problem, my lady,” Jamie said. “Or even severed limbs…”

  “Do ye remember the time that Old Hamish lost his eye?” another chimed in. “Even seeing it hanging by a thread down his cheek didna bother me.”

  The third began to regale her with another injury incident when Sebastien—thank the Lord!—interrupted them. “I think,” he said, and then louder, “I think it is seeing it on a woman that makes it more grievous than in battle.”

  “Aye, my lord. Ye have the right of it,” Jamie said. “If the skin did not break—” he pointed to her face “—ye probably willna even have a scar.”

  The other men just stared at her and then nodded at the apparent wisdom of their comrade. She looked to Sebastien and cleared her throat. He got the message.

  “The lady is safe, so go back to your posts,” he ordered.

  The soldiers put their swords back into t
heir scabbards and bowed to her. She heard their footsteps as they trod back down to where they were assigned, apparently not too far away. Lara peeked into the outer chamber and noticed that Margaret had regained consciousness…in Sir Hugh’s arms. The woman would be worthless for the rest of the day, so Lara waved her off as Sir Hugh helped her down the stairs.

  “Are they truly necessary, my lord?” she asked, gathering the remnants of her meal and placing them on the table.

  “Until I am certain that Eachann is no longer a threat to you, aye, they are.” He picked up the cloth that had covered the tray and began to wipe up the porridge from the floor with it.

  “He is probably long gone, back to my father.”

  “Mayhap or not, I will not take any chances with him,” he said. His lips moved into a slight smile. “Not as long as you are my concern, that is.”

  She nodded, understanding that one of her choices was to leave him and go back to her family.

  “I would say one thing on the matter of the choices before you, if I may?” He looked to her for permission. Lara nodded. “If your decision is to leave our marriage behind and seek an annulment, I would urge you to consider going to someone other than your father.”

  “Why?” He did not know of the conciliatory letter and the tender greetings and promises made to her by her parent.

  “In my dealings with your cousin, I’ve learned that he is a man who enjoys giving pain to others.”

  “And in your dealings with other spies, have you never caused pain?”

  “Aye, I have. But, when I forced someone to spill their secrets by heavy-handed methods, they were soldiers or spies, and even then, I had some measure of regret over their hard use. Eachann does not regret any methods he uses. Indeed, he relishes the giving of pain.”

  She remembered her cousin’s shoving and hitting and how he seemed to get sexual pleasure from it. Lara’s mouth went dry.

  “You do understand, then?” Sebastien asked. “So, consider seeking another refuge if you decide on the annulment.”

  She turned away, not willing to let him see the tears in her eyes. “I will think on your words, my lord.”

  “Good. I will send someone up with another tray for you and I will warn them of what to expect so we have no more fainting.”

  “My thanks,” she said, finally able to look at him.

  “Oh, the children have asked to see you. I did tell them of your injury, but I did not reveal the cause of it. So, if you want to tell them that you fell…?”

  “That might be an easier explanation for them, and it is not far from the truth.”

  He stood for another minute as though he had something more to say and could not get the words out. He offered her a bow and then left her alone.

  Part of her longed to stop him and to throw herself into his arms. She wanted to accept his strength; she needed it when she felt this weak. Another girl knocked on her door with a tray of fresh porridge and bread, and it was her expression that sent Lara searching for her looking glass. When she saw what the others had, it put her off her food for the rest of the morning.

  With the maid’s help, she contrived a hair covering that included a loose veil she could draw down to hide most of the swelling. By the afternoon she was ready to see the children, or at least as prepared as she could be.

  Malcolm, as most boys his age, did not seem affected by it at all. He entered her chambers and proceeded to ask all kinds of questions about Sebastien and the axes the soldiers carried and the new boats. Catriona broke into tears and climbed into Lara’s lap. Every few minutes she would lean back, stare at Lara’s face and utter her new favorite word—horrendous.

  “Lara, it looks horrendous,” she would say, drawing out the word to make it last more than the count of ten. After the sixth time, Lara asked who had taught her such a word.

  “Sir Hugh said it first. He told Margaret that your face looked horrrendousss.”

  Lara reminded herself to have a talk with Sir Hugh about what he said in front of her sister. Catriona would use this new word endlessly for days until she discovered another she liked better. “Catriona, a lady does not point out someone’s misfortunes.”

  “But it looks h—”

  Lara grabbed her hand and put it back in her lap. “Aye, love, it does.” Guiding the girl to her feet, she stood. “Come, let us go down to the solar. Mayhap we can coax Margaret to join us.”

  She walked down the steps and discovered the soldiers standing guard on the landing. In spite of her veil, they all shook their heads and scrunched up their own faces at the sight of her. Waving off their attention, she entered the bright chamber and decided to work on the tapestry that still taunted her.

  Malcolm whined about being shut up and not permitted outside. Once Philippe arrived with some rope and a new knowledge of knots to share with him, both boys were occupied for a time. Margaret did join them and she spent her time brushing and arranging Catriona’s hair into elaborate braids.

  After losing stitches and needles, Lara realized that her sight was impaired by the swelling, and gave up again on trying to embroider. So she contented herself by watching the boys practice their skills, and even learned one or two herself under Philippe’s tutelage. Gara came and applied a paste to her cheek, which she assured Lara would help with the swelling. In the late afternoon, when Philippe was called back to his duties and Catriona and Margaret were napping in Catriona’s bed, Lara realized that one source of information sat right before her.

  “Malcolm, tell me what you think of Lord Sebastien.”

  Her brother began by outlining all of Sebastien’s accomplishments and abilities and manly skills in fighting.

  “Nay, Malcolm. I know all of those things. I would hear what your thoughts are on his character.”

  The boy stared off into the distance for a few minutes, then met her gaze. “He is a good man, Lara. You could not find a better man if you had sought one of your own choice.”

  Stunned by the wisdom in one so young, she repeated in her mind his words. Could not find a better man…

  “I think you are correct in this, Malcolm.”

  “He does not rule through anger and fear as Father did, Lara. His men serve him of their own will. They know he would give up his life to protect any one of them, and it makes them pledge to him without hesitation.”

  Where did this come from? How could one so innocent recognize the leadership in Sebastien? Surprised by his words, Lara thought on them.

  “Philippe’s father is an earl, but Philippe will pledge to Sebastien when he finishes his training. As will I,” he said proudly. “We will be knights together in the service of the Bruce.”

  Reeling from this declaration, she shook her head. Misunderstanding the gesture, Malcolm stated, “Sebastien said it will be my choice to make when the time comes.”

  “So he is not forcing you to this way of thinking? Or is Philippe persuading you somehow?”

  “Nay,” he said, shaking his head now. “Sebastien said that men of honor follow their consciences and honor their pledges. I want to be a man of honor.”

  Sitting back in her chair, Lara was overwhelmed by the lessons taught and learned in just these last few months under Sebastien’s guidance. Her husband had treated them all with infinite patience and care and honor. Oh, she knew he manipulated her at times, but he never did it to hurt or harm her, and she recognized when he did it. Mayhap that was part of his plan?

  She sought her bed earlier than usual that day, exhaustion driving her to it just after eating with the children. She was no less confused when she woke up in Sebastien’s embrace in the middle of the night. Once more he warmed and protected her, with no expectation of a return on his actions.

  In the morning, when her face was less swollen and she could see more clearly, she sought out one of the books in her mother’s collection, an illuminated history of the MacDougalls. One of the pictures portrayed her great-great-grandfather pledging himself to the king who had granted
their original charter of lands and titles.

  Looking at both the men involved, Lara noticed first that there was nothing subservient about her ancestor’s stance or gaze as his hands were held by those of his liege lord. And there was nothing prideful or gloating in the appearance of the king as he accepted the words spoken by his vassal.

  As she translated the pledge from Latin, she let the meaning flow over her. Everything became clear to her as she contemplated what Sebastien offered and promised her.

  She took to her chambers, chasing all away with a tale of tiredness, and spent the day thinking on the words that could express her decision to Sebastien. Finally, when Margaret brought news that he and his commanders would meet in the hall before their supper, Lara knew it was time.

  Time to make her choice.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lara could not wait for supper to do this, for her stomach rebelled due to nerves. It had to be now. She made her way from her room to the hall where Sebastien met with his own commanders. His troops were divided into six companies, each with a different skill or superiority in some aspect of warfare. One contingent was skilled with bows, another with sword and lance and another with ax and pike. As Malcolm had explained to her in the last day, some had trained with the Black Douglas before coming to Sebastien, and some of his men had fought with Sebastien for the last three years.

  She walked with a boldness she did not feel to the front of the room where they had maps spread out and were deep in discussion over their upcoming mission. One of the men noticed her and called out to Sebastien to bring her to his attention. Soon the room had quieted and, after each man stood and bowed to her, they waited to discover her purpose here.

  Standing before Sebastien, she wondered why she had ever thought to betray him. How could she do anything but love this man who had given her so much and saved her from so much else? Lara saw the puzzlement on his face and smiled at him. Then she knelt before him, with her hands extended out to him and her head bowed.

  The words that she had practiced all morning and most of the afternoon swirled around in her thoughts, and she began to repeat them out loud for all to hear.