by Adams, Alisa
"Indeed, he is, milady," Francis agreed, "he conducted two marriages on the way here."
She looked up at him and smiled, and it was as if an angel had blessed Francis, so stricken was he by her beauty. He blushed and looked away. "Really?" she asked, "whose?"
"Cameron and Andrina, brither and lady's maid to Iona McCallum, an' Gregor an' Iona herself."
"Gregor is married?" She gasped. "But he was going to be a monk! And his wife?"
"The young lady who wis tae be married tae the Baron." Francis grinned. "She fled. When ye meet the Baron ye will see for why. Milady, let them tell ye the hale story. They knaw mair than I dae."
"I am astounded," Lorraine said, shaking her head in disbelief. "It must have been a very short courtship. I must get the whole story as soon as they get here! Now let us eat." She laughed, "I could eat a whole horse with room to spare, and I am quite sure you could too. And young Gabriel is becoming too heavy to carry."
"Let me, milady," Francis said, smiling, "I have many brothers and sisters, and I am used tae holdin, them." He held out his arms and Lorraine placed Gabriel in them. She never let anyone hold Gabriel except Graham and his nanny, but she trusted this young man, for some unaccountable reason. There was something solid and wholesome about him. She rubbed her arms, which had become tired and sore, and presently Graham came in.
He seemed astonished when he saw Francis holding the baby, but said nothing. He looked at Lorraine with a question in his eyes but she merely smiled and went out to call the nanny in.
Presently, a fresh-faced young woman with merry brown eyes and fair curly hair came in. She looked as though she smiled a great deal, and as Francis gave her the baby, he wondered how many more beautiful women he would see today.
"Braddie," Lorraine said, smiling, "this is our new nanny, Francis."
Braddie smiled at the joke, but she was surprised that Lorraine had given Gabriel to this young and very attractive man. She had never been known to allow anyone else to hold him. As Francis passed Gabriel over to her, their eyes met for a moment. Braddie blushed and looked away as their hands touched. Then she said to Lorraine, "Tae be honest, Mistress, I could dae wi' the help!" She laughed. "He's a right wee haunful gettin'!"
"I will not disagree with you there," Lorraine replied, "I am afraid he is just at that curious age. Braddie, will you ask one of the kitchen maids to set out some nice, hot, filling food for Francis? He has ridden a long way today. He can eat in the dining room."
When Francis left the room, Lorraine smiled. She had seen the exchange of glances between the two young people and wondered if it might not be an idea to keep Francis with them. They were constantly in need of good men to look after the horses, and they could always use him as a spare nanny!
The meal was huge; fresh fish, eggs, black pudding with bannocks and cheese, all washed down with pints of ale. Francis polished off every last crumb of it, despite his agitation. He could not help worrying about his friends outside. It was almost dark, rain was threatening, and he was too restless and fidgety to sit down. He decided to have the bath Lorraine had suggested, hoping that it would calm him down a bit.
The Baron was suffering. He had been afflicted with the most painful attack of gout he had experienced in a long time, and his entourage was, therefore, moving at a snail's pace. The journey over Minch in rough weather had brought on the worst attack of seasickness he had ever had and he was sure that he was about to die. He had stopped outside Drummond Castle but had been told that the Laird and his family were visiting relatives in the Lowlands and the guards were under orders not to let anyone in. Hector Laughlin, as well as being furious, was now in agony. He sent two of his most trusted men to ride ahead and ask at Hamilton Castle if there was accommodation there.
In twenty minutes, the man was back. "Milady says 'aye', sir," he said, "she says she will have a room ready for ye."
"Excellent!" The Baron breathed a sigh of relief and waddled inside. Every joint of his body was afire with pain, and he could not wait to be escorted to a lovely soft feather bed and close his eyes to dream of his lovely wife to be. Iona would be his wife - an obedient wife - willing or not.
They arrived at Castle Hamilton just after full darkness had fallen and were led into the courtyard with their horses. The Baron was in almost unbearable pain now and dismounted his horse by falling off it. He landed with a thud and a scream on the floor. Lorraine and Graham came running when they heard the sound. The Baron was lying on the floor like an upside-down turtle, and it was all Lorraine could do not to laugh. She thanked the Lord that Laird Hamilton, her father-in-law, was not here to see the spectacle, for he would literally have been convulsed with mirth.
Graham got three of his strongest men-at-arms to lift him, but they were only just able to get him to stand upright. They half-dragged him to one of the closest bedrooms on the ground floor. It was an ungainly and undignified spectacle, but there was nothing else for it.
It was impossible to get the wise woman from the nearest village, so they dosed the Baron with poppy milk and he fell into a deep sleep. Privately, both Lorraine and Graham hoped that he did not wake up.
"I have just had the most astonishing piece of news!" Lorraine exclaimed, as soon as she was alone with her husband. "You will never guess who is married?"
Graham shrugged. "I have no idea," he said flatly, "but I expect you are going to tell me."
"Gregor," she replied.
"What?" he cried in disbelief, "to whom?"
"Oh, this is the best bit," Iona said with unholy relish. "to Iona, the girl that the Baron was supposed to have married. She got away—twice!"
37
Carmichael Castle (Iona and Gregor)
Gregor received Graham's message and read it through.
"Gregor, I am told by Francis McClure that the Baron of Portree is on your track. He is coming from the south. I know you are going home, but do not allow anyone to come any further than your Carmichael Castle till you hear from me. Sincerely, Graham."
Gregor's face was grim. "It seems that we did misdirect him, but he lost time. Probably missed the boat at Portree." He bade the messenger come with him, but the man shook his head.
"He will be goin' nae further than oor castle, sir, but hurry."
Gregor thanked the man. "Tell the Laird I thank him," he said gratefully. “And we will follow his instructions.”
The guard nodded, wheeled his horse round and went back in the direction of Hamilton Castle. They turned off the road, taking the one towards Carmichael Castle, cautiously picking their way along the track till they got to the moat. There was a guard standing outside and he called out:
"Who goes there?"
"Laird Gregor Carmichael the Younger!" he called, "let me in, Sam. My friends need to get warm."
"Aye, sir!" The drawbridge was immediately let down, the portcullis drawn up, and they rode into the castle.
"'Tis good tae have ye back, sir!" Sam came up to Gregor, grinning from ear to ear. "We thought ye were away forever," then he took in Gregor's clothes.
"Ye’re no' a monk then m’laird?" he asked curiously.
"No," Gregor affirmed, smiling, "brace yourself, Sam." He extended his arm to Iona, who had just got off her horse. "This is my wife, Iona."
Sam's mouth dropped open, then, remembering his manners, he bowed. "Milady," he said, "congratulations. I wish ye a' the happiness in the world."
"Thank you, Sam," she smiled at him and looked around her. This castle was brightly lit and had braziers placed all over it, all burning with a cheerful blaze which gave even the cold courtyard a warm feeling. When they went inside, the hall was lit up with hundreds of candles, and their glow lent a golden wash to the gray stone walls.
She thought of her own one and the meager amount of light from the miserly number of candles that were lit in the evening. This estate was obviously well-managed, the castle well-maintained. She looked forward to being Gregor's wife, not because she would be the Lady of the
Manor, but because she knew that she would be warm and protected forever. She would have lived with him in a hovel, a barn, a stable as long as they were together. She looked at him as he spoke to one of the housemaids whose face was lit up with happiness as she smiled at him.
Presently, Laird Neil Carmichael and his wife Fiona came rushing to meet them. Gregor's mother threw her arms around her son's neck and he hugged her tightly. He was laughing, and she was both laughing and crying at the same time. She stood back to look at him.
"Have you grown since the last time I saw you?" she asked suspiciously.
"Only in happiness, Mother," he replied.
"You are not wearing your habit," she observed, frowning.
Gregor drew Iona to his side. "Married men cannot become monks."
The look on Fiona's face was priceless. Her eyes became rounder and rounder, her mouth dropped open and she put both hands up to her face in shock. "Married?" she repeated faintly.
Gregor nodded. "To this very beautiful woman here, Mother. This is my wife, Iona Carmichael, née McCallum. Now all your wishes have come true."
Fiona looked at her new daughter-in-law in amazement, while Iona smiled and curtsied. Then Fiona opened her arms and Iona stepped into them. "Call me 'Mother'," she said gently, then laughed, "can you imagine the confusion with 'Fiona' and 'Iona?' We will lose our wits! Now, I have to meet the others, but somehow, I suspect that there is a long tale to be told here. Gregor, can you make introductions, please?"
Neil approached Iona at that point and bowed to kiss her hand. "Thank you, my dear, for marrying my son and making him such an obviously happy man!"
"No, m'laird, it is I who must thank him, for making me such a very happy woman."
"Call me 'Father,'" Neil said gently. He gazed at her for a moment. "You are a lovely young lady. Now please point out some faces and names to me for my brain is in a terrible state of confusion."
Iona began the role of names, ending with her father.
"And that is my Father, Craig McCallum," she said bitterly. Craig was standing apart from everyone else, his hands tied behind his back. Despite himself, Neil felt sorry for the man.
"I take it there is no love lost between you?" he asked.
Iona sighed." He is the reason all this, but may we talk about it later?"
"Of course," he said, smiling. "I will put him in the smallest bedroom in the castle with two guards outside the door. I will give him plain food. Is that acceptable to you?"
"Hm!" Iona grunted, "put him in the dungeon, please, Father. It is where he belongs you can feed him the plainest of food, and no wine or whiskey.” "As you wish," the Laird summoned two of his guards and Craig was escorted away.
Iona breathed a sigh of relief as Gregor came back to her. He kissed her forehead and put an arm around her waist.
"Well, Mistress Carmichael, would you like to see your bedroom? We have just enough time before dinner."
"I would," she replied.
"Excuse me," Neil said and went to speak with some of the other new arrivals.
"I think we embarrassed him," Iona said, looking upset.
"He is very easily embarrassed," Gregor laughed. He led her up a beautiful curving staircase to a passageway which was lined with doors on each side. About halfway along the corridor he opened a door and ushered her inside.
She stood, mesmerized, for a moment, while Gregor closed the door behind them and put an arm around her waist. The room was dominated by a huge four poster bed with a cream silk coverlet over it. The hangings around it were also silk but were a delicate shade of pale blue. There were Turkish rugs on the floor, and the paneling was made of reddish oak, gleaming in the candlelight.
"It's beautiful," she smiled, "but not very masculine."
"This one is not mine," he told her, "that will still be full of dust and cobwebs after my long absence. I had the housemaids prepare this one as soon as we came in. Did you not see me talking to them?"
Iona did not answer but looked out of the window. In the darkness, she could see very little, but she knew that during the day the view would be magnificent. She could hear the distant roar of the sea and smell its salty tang. She felt Gregor's arms creeping around her waist and his rough face on the sensitive skin of her neck.
"I love you," he whispered, "and I can't wait." She turned around in his arms. "Mistress Iona Carmichael," he said proudly, "I still cannot believe that you bear my name. I hope that soon it will be my children."
"Our children," she murmured before Gregor eased her back onto the bed. She ran her hands over the hard muscles of his chest, his arms, his back, and finally, she unbuckled his kilt and cupped her hands around his buttocks.
He groaned in pleasure, then kissed her breasts, suckling the hard nubs of her nipples before letting his tongue slide down her belly and into her secret place. She held his head, moaning with delight as he pleasured her, then, when he raised his head, she opened herself up to him. It took only a matter of minutes before they both cried out in ecstasy, then lay together in the afterglow, sated and happy.
"We must go down to dinner," Iona said, "they will be wondering where we are."
Gregor laughed. "They know exactly where we are, and probably what we are doing. I do not think they will wait for us."
"Yes, but I am ravenous!" She said firmly, standing up. She donned her clothes again and he did likewise, then wrapped his arms around her again.
"I cannot ever remember being so contented," he murmured, sighing. He looked down into her blue eyes. "I loved every moment of being with Columba - but when I compare it to being with my wife - I cannot understand why I ever thought I could be a monk."
Iona laughed and pulled his head down for another kiss. "You would never have made a good monk," she remarked, "you are far too handsome."
"I cannot see you in a habit for the rest of your life either," he answered. "Father Columba once said to me that the love between a man and a woman was as sacred as a sacrament, if not more so."
"That may be so, but if I do not get out of here right now," Iona said with mock solemnity, "I may have to start eating you!”
Nobody was fooled. They sat down to dinner five minutes late and their apologies were transparently false. Andie caught Iona's eye across the table and the two of them exchanged a mischievous smile.
I know what you were doing, Andie's said.
I don't care, Iona's replied.
"Iona," Fiona said, "while you were away Cameron was telling us your story. William's part in it is extraordinary, and so is Donalda's. You are fortunate to come from such an astonishing family."
"Thank you" Iona replied, then she raised her wine glass, "to my newly-found brother William, and my brave and wonderful mother."
They all raised their glasses, and Donalda was in tears as William put an arm around her, drawing her close.
"We will never be parted again," he said huskily, "never, for as long as I live."
Iona was seated at the other end of the table, but she walked up and hugged Donalda, then Cameron did the same. Their happiness was loud and overwhelming. Craig could hear the sound of their mirth faintly from his prison. His soul was black with hatred.
38
The Baron Speaks
When the Baron woke up, it took a moment for him to realize where he was. He had a vague recollection of being carried upstairs, then he was made to drink something, and after that, nothing. He rang the bell beside his bed and a deep male voice answered, but no-one came in. He rang again, intending to chastise the first servant to enter the door, but the first face he saw was not a servant, and it was the last face he wanted to see.
"Good morning, Baron," William said politely.
Hector looked up at the blemished face with utter revulsion. William smiled at the disgust in his expression and leaned close to him so that their noses were almost touching. "Baron, I can paint my face with cosmetics. It is a pity you cannot do the same with your bulk."
"I can lose my
bulk," the Baron replied, "but you will never lose that stain."
William shrugged in a nonchalant manner. "At least it is only on my flesh, and not my soul." He turned to leave, then turned back again, looking thoughtful. "I almost forgot. I had something to say to you."
"Say it, then!" The Baron snapped. "I want my breakfast."
William cast a scornful glance at him. "I think you have had too many of those already," he said in a withering tone. "But what I wanted to say to you was: 'Marianne.'"
Then he left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. Hector Laughlin gasped in shock, then gulped for air several times before managing to calm down. When someone brought his breakfast, it consisted of a bannock and a cup of milk, and it was not brought by a maidservant, but a man-at-arms.
"Who are you?" He blustered, "where am I?"
"Hamilton Castle," the man replied, and walked out before Hector could say anything else.
No ‘sir, no ‘Baron’ no respect at all! he thought furiously.
"I feel sorry for the soldiers in the dungeon," Lorraine said to her guests at the breakfast table. "Why should that gross creature be in a bedroom while they are in prison?"
"Lorraine, you are too soft-hearted," Graham said, laughing, "remember whose side they are on. The Baron would cheerfully slit our throats, and so would his soldiers. The only reason he was in a bedroom last night was because it will remind him of the comfort he will soon be giving up. Make no mistake, I will threaten him with the dungeon, and today he will tell William what I want to know. However, whether he co-operates or not, he will go into that dungeon today, and tonight he will not have the luxury of a mattress."
"William, you said you knew his secret," Iona said, frowning, "why will you not tell us what it is?"
"I want you to hear it from his own lips," William replied. "I will not harm him in any way, but he will tell you. And there is something I do not know either."
