Lynsay Sands

by An English Bride in Scotland

  “Ah.” Annabel grimaced, and then admitted, “I let him in.”

  When silence met this admission, she added, “He misses your father, husband.”

  “He is a dog, wife,” Ross said dryly.

  Annabel turned over in bed so she could see his face and said, “Aye, but dogs are not solitary creatures, husband. They are used to a pack. Your father was Jasper’s pack. Now he is gone and Jasper has none. ’Tis why he has been difficult. He just needs to feel part of a pack again.”

  Silence crowded in again when she stopped talking and Annabel was trying to think of something else to say, when Ross asked curiously, “Did ye have dogs growing up?”

  “Nay,” she admitted reluctantly. She had wanted one, but of course the abbess would never have allowed it.

  “Then how do ye ken so much about them?” he asked.

  Annabel sighed and then admitted, “Sister Clara was very knowledgeable about them. She raised them when she was married and used to tell me about her dogs and their behaviors and such.”

  “I thought yer sister’s name was Kate,” Ross said with a frown, and then glanced to the door when a knock sounded. Annabel quickly tugged the furs up to her chin as he called, “Come in.”

  Gilly immediately stuck his head into the room. He paused long enough to smile and wish Annabel good morning, and then turned his attention to Ross and announced, “A messenger just arrived from yer lady sister. She and her husband’ll be here by noon.”

  Ross nodded and murmured his thanks, then turned back to her as Gilly pulled his head back and closed the door, but Annabel was already throwing the linens and furs aside and leaping from bed.

  “What are ye doing?” he asked, a frown in his voice. “Come back to bed.”

  “What?” Annabel asked, glancing at him with amazement, and then she shook her head and turned away to grab up his plaid and wrap it around herself in the roman style, saying, “Nay. Your sister is coming. We have to get ready.”

  “She will not be here fer hours,” Ross protested on a laugh. “Come back to bed. ’Tis Thursday.”

  Annabel glanced at him in confusion, not knowing what it being Thursday had to do with anything, and then hurried to the door, clutching his plaid closed above her chest. “I have to get a dress ready. I will not be bursting out of the neckline when I meet your sister.”

  “That’s—” Ross paused when she tugged the door open and they both saw Seonag on the threshold, hand raised to knock.

  The woman only paused a beat before bustling into the room, several gowns over one arm. “I brought the best of the gowns I found yesterday, but they all need work. I never got to repairing them yesterday what with running between ye and the merchant,” she added apologetically.

  “No, of course you did not,” Annabel said with understanding as she pushed the door closed. “ ’Tis all right. Surely we can get one ready by noon?”

  “Aye,” Seonag agreed, sounding relieved that she wasn’t angry.

  A sigh from the bed made them both glance that way as Ross tossed the furs and linens aside to get up.

  “I suppose there is no reason fer me to stay abed then,” he said dryly, bending to pick up his shirt. He tugged it on and then walked to Annabel and gave her a slow, hungry kiss that had her releasing his plaid to reach for him. The moment she did, he broke the kiss and stepped back taking the plaid with him.

  “I’ll need this. Besides, I like ye better that way,” he said with a grin as Annabel gasped in surprise at being left naked.

  “WELL?” ANNABEL ASKED anxiously when Seonag remained silent too long.

  “ ’Tis perfect,” Seonag pronounced at last. “Ye can no’ even tell it has been let out in the bust.”

  Annabel sagged with relief, but glanced down at the deep red gown she wore and asked worriedly, “Is the color all right on me? I have never worn anything so bold before.”

  “Well, ye should,” the maid said firmly. “The color suits ye. The pink ye wore yesterday was too pale fer yer coloring.”

  Annabel smiled wryly at that. Pale and drab fabrics had always been favored at the abbey. No one would have dared to wear this color for fear of displeasing the abbess.

  Fortunately, she did not have to deal with the woman’s likes or dislikes anymore, Annabel reminded herself firmly, and turned her mind to what else had to be done to prepare for Giorsal’s visit. The problem was, she didn’t have a clue what that list included.

  She was ready in the gown she and Seonag had prepared. The maid had even done her hair again for her. But what else should she do?

  Food, she thought and asked, “Has someone informed Angus that we are to have company?”

  “Aye. Gilly told both Cook and I ere coming upstairs in search of the laird,” she assured her. “Angus was planning what he would serve as I left.”

  “Good,” Annabel murmured, but wondered if she was expected to check with the cook about what he was preparing. Or would that be considered insulting? She decided not to check with him. Whether Angus was aware of it or not, he knew better what was expected in this situation than she did.

  Grimacing over that, Annabel hurried to help gather the remaining gowns when Seonag began to collect them.

  “I can manage, m’lady,” Seonag said at once, but Annabel shook her head.

  “I can help. I am going below anyway, and I would not want you tripping over the material on your way down the stairs.”

  Seonag had commented earlier that she would store away the gowns that still needed mending in a sewing basket by the fire in the great hall so that they could work on them as they had time. Annabel had wondered that they would all fit in the basket mentioned, but she needn’t have worried. The basket in question was huge. Lady Magaidh must have done a great deal of mending over the years, she decided. Fortunately, that was something Annabel could manage. She had made her own dresses and mended any tears and such for years now. Annabel knew she was not quick at the task; working with Seonag had proven that, but she could sew a straight line.

  “There,” Seonag said as they straightened from packing away the gowns. She glanced at Annabel and then said, “Ye should break yer fast now, m’lady. I should ha’e thought to bring ye up something when I headed to yer room. Ye must be hungry.”

  “I am fine,” Annabel assured her as they headed toward the trestle tables. “I ate late last night. But a warmed cider would be nice about now. I—what is that smell?” She interrupted herself to ask, her nose working as a most unpleasant odor reached it.

  “It’s that damned dog.”

  Annabel turned at that announcement from Angus. The cook stood between the tables and the door to the kitchens, a cleaver grasped in his hand and a scowl on his face as he eyed Jasper. The dog was hunched over in a corner, proving that he was the source of the smell by creating more of it.

  “The bloody beast was in the kitchen doing his business and stinking it up and I chased him out, not thinking he wasn’t done and would continue out here.” Cook turned to her, his anger giving way to despair as he cried, “This stink will ruin the lovely squab I am preparing for the nooning.”

  “Oh dear,” Annabel muttered, eyeing Jasper unhappily. The poor beast appeared to be suffering a digestive ailment of some sort at the moment, and while she had all the sympathy in the world for him, she wished he could have waited until tomorrow to have it.

  “The poor bugger has no’ smelled that bad since that time the Gordons were visiting and their boy fed him some cheese,” Seonag commented with a frown.

  Annabel stiffened guiltily. “What? Cheese?”

  “Aye. It seems he does no’ like cheese. Or his stomach does no’ like it anyway. It always affects him badly for days afterward. ’Tis why the old laird ordered that no one feed him but hisself. He’s a delicate stomach, does Jasper.”

  Annabel closed her eyes briefly at this news. She had done it to the poor dog herself by feeding him cheese last night. Dear God!

  “What are we going to do?” Cook
asked miserably. “He shall ruin everything.”

  Annabel rubbed her suddenly aching forehead, careful to avoid the gash there and then sighed and let her hands drop away. “We shall have to put him out in the bailey and clean up this mess.”

  ROSS WAS TALKING to Gilly and Marach as they watched the men practice at battle. They were discussing their strengths and weaknesses and deciding how best to improve on their skills, when the stable master came rushing up. The man was red faced and out of breath, but it didn’t stop him blurting, “She’s gone!” the moment he reached them.

  “Who’s gone?” Ross asked with a frown, but the man had used the last of his breath on the announcement and merely shook his head, then bent over, resting his hands on his knees as he panted for breath.

  “Speak, man,” Gilly snapped, never having been very patient.

  The stable master raised a hand, silently begging a moment, but then straightened and looked to Ross as he managed to get out, “Yer bride.”

  “What?” he barked, stiffening. “What the hell are ye talking about? Where has Annabel gone?”

  “Back to England?” Gilly asked and Ross glared at the man. Annabel better not have headed back to England. He’d wring her bloody neck if she had. She was his. And why the hell would she go there anyway? Surely life with him was better than life with those two coldhearted English—

  “Nay. To fetch flowers,” the stable master said, sounding a little less breathless.

  Ross turned an uncomprehending glance his way and asked with bewilderment, “Flowers?”

  “Aye. Jasper has the flux. He’s stunk up the great hall with it. They cleaned up the mess, but the smell just will no’ leave, and yer sister is comin’, so yer lady went to …” His words trailed away. Ross was no longer listening. He’d turned on his heel with a curse and was running for the stables. Gilly and Marach were hard on his heels.

  “HONESTLY, JASPER, WHY on earth did you eat the cheese if it affects you so?” Annabel asked with exasperation from beneath the hand covering her nose and mouth. Her head was turned away from what the dog was doing so she didn’t have to see it, but there was no escaping the smell.

  Jasper had been waiting on the steps when she’d come out of the keep and had promptly fallen into step beside her as she’d headed to the stables. That being the case, she had not been surprised when he’d trotted out of the bailey right behind her mare. She should have ordered him to stay behind though. The poor beast was suffering. This was the third time he’d had to hunch over and vacate himself since they’d left.

  Annabel let her hand drop with a sigh and urged her mare to move again when Jasper finished his business and moved into view. Truthfully, judging by the way he was still prancing about, he wasn’t suffering all that much. Everyone else was though. The smell in the keep was enough to bring tears to the eyes, even after a thorough cleaning, and all Annabel had been able to think to do was to find flowers to add to the rushes and cover the smell. However with the servants spread so thin giving the great hall floor another good wash, dusting and polishing, and bustling about in the kitchen to help Cook with this unexpected meal, there had been no one to send on the task … And since she was the one responsible for this mess, Annabel had decided she would fetch the flowers she hoped would help mask the matter.

  Afraid Seonag would try to stop her, Annabel had not told her what she planned to do. Unfortunately, she hadn’t been able to slip out of the stables with her mare undetected, despite not bothering to saddle the beast, and she’d ended up telling the stable master where she was going. He, of course, had protested vehemently that he was quite sure his laird would not be pleased, and Annabel, of course, had simply shrugged helplessly and gone ahead and done as she wished. Though she’d had to remind the man that she was his lady and to be obeyed when he placed himself physically in front of her mare in an attempt to stop her.

  The old man’s face had turned red then and he’d suddenly whirled and raced off, no doubt to tell on her.

  By now, Annabel suspected Ross would be pacing angrily about, deciding what to do with her when she got back. She just hoped it wasn’t anything too bad. She was very aware that husbands were allowed to beat their wives.

  “Now where are those bluebells?” Annabel muttered to herself as she surveyed the area. She and Ross had ridden through a veritable field of bluebells on their way to the clearing where they’d picnicked. The smell had been intoxicating. With enough of that strewn among the rushes, she was sure they could hide the stench Jasper had caused in the keep. And they were pretty too, she thought.

  Annabel smelled the flowers almost at the same moment as she spotted them ahead. As she eyed the rash of flowers that had sprung up under the trees, Annabel supposed field was not quite the right word, though there were so many of them they could have made a field. But bluebells didn’t like strong sunlight and preferred more shaded areas where the sun could only reach her fingers through the branches overhead to sprinkle them with her light.

  Releasing a sigh, Annabel reined in her mare and slid off her bare back to the forest floor, then untied the bag she’d brought with her from her waist. She’d had the forethought to bring a knife in case the stalks were tough in Scotland, and a large sack to put them in for the ride home. Leaving Jasper to wander as he wished, she began her work, quickly gathering an armful of the fragrant flowers and stowing them in her bag before continuing on.

  Annabel was placing the third and last armful of flowers she could fit in the now bulging bag when she spotted movement out of the corner of her eye and glanced that way. She was expecting it to be Jasper. The dog had wandered off almost the moment she’d dismounted and she’d kept an eye out for his return. Annabel was hoping he’d come back on his own and save her having to call for him.

  But it wasn’t Jasper. It was a large man in a plaid, and Annabel stared at him nonplussed for a moment as she recognized him as the man who had come upon her in the clearing the first night they’d made camp on the journey here. But that had been in England. And he’d been wearing English clothes then. And this couldn’t be an accidental encounter.

  Straightening, she dropped her bag, but kept her hold on her knife as she began to back away, and asked, “Who are you?”

  “It’ll go easier on ye do ye just come quietly, lass,” the man said, his words so soft-spoken she almost missed the threat until he added, “I don’t want to have to hurt ye.”

  Those words though decided her course and Annabel stopped backing away and turned to make a break for her mare. She nearly reached her too, and was only a couple steps away when he tackled her from behind. Annabel went down with a cry, pulling the hand with the knife back toward herself to avoid stabbing her mare as she tumbled to the ground at the horse’s hooves. Of course, the commotion frightened the poor mare, making her scream and rear. All Annabel could do was cover her head and pray she wasn’t stomped on.

  She should have been praying the horse stomped on the man on top of her though, Annabel decided a moment later when her mare backed away, still making distressed sounds and she heard a tearing as she was dragged over onto her back. All she could think as her back slammed into the dirt was that she didn’t have anything else to wear to meet her new sister-in-law and this man was ruining the one presentable dress she did have.

  With that thought, Annabel swung furiously at his head, not recalling the knife held in it until it slammed into the arm he lifted to block her blow. Annabel froze then, eyes going wide, and she almost blurted an apology. Before she could do something as ridiculous as that, though, he slammed the fist of his uninjured arm into her head, briefly stunning her.

  It was a deep growl and bark that brought her eyes open again, but Annabel had trouble focusing on the blur that was Jasper as he charged toward them at full tilt. The man leapt to his feet and took off at a dead run. He never would have outrun the dog, but she wouldn’t risk his harming the beast with a kick to the head or something and immediately shouted, “Jasper!” when
he charged past her after her attacker.

  The dog responded at once, nearly doing a somersault in his effort to stop. He then stood there for a moment, looking to her and back to the man twice before turning and trotting to her side.

  “Good boy,” Annabel breathed, hugging him when he sat down beside her. She had meant it only to be a brief hug to reward him for obeying despite his instinct to give chase, but ended up holding on to the animal to stay upright as a wave of exhaustion rolled over her.

  That exhaustion disappeared though, as her ear caught the sound of approaching riders. Her husband and his men, no doubt, Annabel thought and forced herself to gain her feet to face his anger. Only it wasn’t her husband and his men. She didn’t recognize a single man in the approaching party, and Annabel instinctively tightened her fingers around … nothing. She no longer had the knife she’d borrowed from the kitchen for this excursion. It was still in the arm of the man who had attacked her. The only weapon she had now was the dog at her feet.

  Mouth tightening at this realization, Annabel raised her chin and watched as the party of about six riders drew to a halt before her. Silence filled the glade as the men eyed her. It went on long enough that she began to grow uncomfortable, so Annabel finally said, “Good morning.”

  For some reason her polite greeting drew a chuckle from several of the men. The only one who did not laugh, that she could see, was the one in the lead. Her words brought a frown to his face and he said, “English.”

  “Aye,” Annabel said warily, raising her chin a little more.

  The other men had stopped laughing abruptly at the word English and were now eyeing her with a speculation she did not understand until he asked, “Ye’d no’ be Ross MacKay’s new bride, would ye?”

  Annabel stiffened, suspicion beginning to creep up within her. That suspicion exploded into full-blown realization when a woman on horseback charged out of the trees with a mounted man hot on her horse’s tail.

  “Dammit, Giorsal, I told ye to wait,” the leader barked as she reined in next to him. Truthfully, he sounded more exasperated than surprised. At least, he did until his gaze shifted to the man drawing to a halt behind her. Then his voice was short with anger as he said, “Ye were to keep her where she was safe until we’d scouted out the situation.”