“Nay, ye’ll come with me and sit at the dais. That’s where the nobles eat. I’ll no’ let ye sit alone in yer chamber, nor will I let ye sit with the servants below the salt.” He took her arm and started walking, and she had no choice but to go with him.
Once again, when she entered the great hall, all talking ceased and the room became quiet. She tried to ignore all the onlookers gawking at her and whispering behind their hands. She wanted to be here, but at the same time, she didn’t want to become a spectacle. Why couldn’t the servants bow and curtsy to her the way they did for her sister? If only she had been born first, things would be so different.
“Annalyse, what are you doing here?” growled her father as Ross marched her in front of the dais table.
“I’m hungry,” she told him and left it at that.
“I’ll have a servant bring food to you in your chamber.” Her father started to raise his hand to call one over, but Ross stopped him.
“Please, my lord, if ye dinna mind, I’d like Annalyse to join us at the dais.”
“Nay, it’s not a good idea,” said Ramsay, looking around the room nervously. “People might start to talk.”
“They’re already talking, Father.” She spoke up bravely because Ross’ actions made her want to defend herself. “And it’s not just about me, but Gabrielle as well if you haven’t noticed.”
“It’s Christmas,” said her mother. “Please, let her stay.”
“Yes, Father. I’d like her to stay as well,” said Gabrielle putting on one of her sweetest smiles. It was getting harder to read her sister’s thoughts now that the twin bastards in her womb seemed to interfere with her ability to share her sister’s feelings.
“Sit down then and try not to cause trouble,” growled her father, finally giving in. He picked up his goblet and chugged down a cupful of wine.
Ross seated Annalyse next to him, holding the chair for her. No one had ever done this for her before. She liked the feeling and tried to block out the staring sea of eyes watching her from below the salt.
“Ye’ll share a trencher with me,” said the Scot, picking up a platter from the table that held the best cuts of venison upon it. He used his eating knife to stab a piece of meat and put it on the trencher, the old stale bread they used as a plate.
“Oh my!” she said as a servant laid a platter before them with an entire swan gracing the dish. The bird had been cooked, re-feathered, and placed back on the platter to look as if it were not dead at all. This was followed by several courses of root vegetables and frumenty – a thick Christmas porridge of boiled wheat mixed with currants, yolks of eggs, and exotic spices.
Along with the food, Ross made sure to keep the drinking vessel they shared filled with spiced mead. Annalyse ate and drank her fill, feeling so full she thought she would burst. Being used to the plain, simple food in the nunnery, she’d almost forgotten about the delicacies enjoyed by the nobles.
“Now, here is a piece of mince pie for ye, my lady,” said Ross, slipping a piece onto the trencher.
“Oh, no, I am so full I couldn’t eat a bite.” She shook her head and held up a hand, signaling that she had eaten more than enough.
“Sister, you mustn’t refuse mince pie on Christmas or you will have bad luck,” Gabrielle reminded her from the other end of the table.
“Lord knows I don’t need any more bad luck,” she said, looking down to the shredded spiced meat and fruit that filled the crust of the pie. It did look delicious. Mayhap she could just take one bite to ensure good luck. It was only a superstition, but she didn’t need anyone blaming her for bad luck if she didn’t at least taste the pie.
“Make a wish with your first bite. Whatever you wish will come true,” said her mother, reminding her of the tradition.
Annalyse paused and looked over to her sister, thinking of all the years Gabrielle had everything that she should have had as well. Then she looked at her father scowling at her and realized this might be the last time she ever ate at the dais with her family. If Ross hadn’t been here, she’d be eating by herself in her chamber right now. Feeling thankful to the Scot, and since this would never happen again, she decided to enjoy it.
“Go ahead, make a wish,” said Ross, picking up some mince pie on the spoon and holding it up to her mouth. He looked so brave and handsome and seemed to be the only one who cared about her. Why couldn’t she be the one marrying him? She didn’t understand why the Scot would even want Gabrielle since she was the king’s cast-off and very pregnant.
“Aye, I know exactly what I’ll wish for,” she said, closing her eyes, letting Ross guide the mince pie into her mouth. When the burst of flavor filled her senses, she boldly wished Ross were her husband instead of her sister’s betrothed. Never had she met anyone who cared about her the way this stranger did and that was something she didn’t ever want to give up. When even her own father shunned her, this man went to extremes to make her feel wanted and loved. Aye, she was becoming very fond of Ross because of his kindness. Thoughts filled her head of wanting to have babies with him and lay in his arms each night feeling safe and loved.
“Tell me yer wish,” said Ross, causing her eyes to spring open. Guilt washed over her as she looked at her sister’s smiling face and then back to Ross who still held the spoon from which he’d just fed her. Green eyes the color of the mountainous Highlands watched her intently. It made her want, more than anything, to tell him her wish. A part of her hoped somehow he’d want it, too. But even though she’d been tempted, she couldn’t tell him. Her wish would be her secret she’d take to her grave because it was a vengeful, horrid wish against her sister and she felt so ashamed that she never wanted anyone to find out.
She swallowed the mince pie and with it went the wish for her future that could never be. “I can’t tell you,” she said softly, licking her lips. “If I do, it might not come true.”
“Do tell,” her sister urged her, but she remained quiet.
“All wishes made on Christmas with the first bite of mince pie come true,” her mother reassured her.
“I hope it was a guid wish, lassie,” said Ross, smiling at her and making her feel as if she were the only woman in the world. His attention to her was refreshing and addicting, and she couldn’t help wanting more.
“It was a very good wish,” she said, looking down to the trencher and running her finger through crumbs on the table. Then to her surprise, the Scot leaned over and whispered into her ear.
“Ye wished to kiss me again, didna ye?”
A smile lit up her face, but she kept her eyes away from his.
“Nay, that’s not what I wished,” she told him, hoping he’d never find out that what she wanted with him was so much more than just a kiss.
DESTINY’S KISS
CHAPTER SIX
Ross brushed down his horse in the stable the next day with his brother, Malcolm, and his Scottish friends at his side. He’d come to Hetherpool with only three Scots, and while they had no trouble here yet, he still didn’t feel comfortable on this side of the border. The sooner he married the girl and got back to Scotland the better.
“We need to leave for Scotland as soon as possible,” said Malcolm with concern in his voice. “King Edward is goin’ to be showin’ up any day and ye, brathair, are takin’ too long to secure the deal. Ye are stallin’ for some reason.”
“Guid. Let Edward show up,” said Ross, brushing the horse harder. “Mayhap I’ll kill him with my bare hands to pay him back for the loss of so many of our clan and our family.”
“Ye’re here to make an alliance to stop the attacks on our clan,” Malcolm reminded him. “Now, seal the deal and let’s get back over the border before the king finds out what ye’ve done.”
“Och, Ross, he’s right,” said his good friend, Breac. “Ye need to hurry up, so stop wooin’ the wrong sister.”
“Aye, ye are betrothed to the king’s hoor, yet ye seem to have eyes for the cursedone,” said Niven. “This is goin’ to get us into
trouble.”
“Dinna call Lady Gabrielle a hoor,” said Ross. “She was Edward’s mistress and probably had no choice in the matter. And dinna call Lady Annalyse cursed because she is naught but a blessin’.”
“Lady Gabrielle is the lover of the English king and carries his bairn!” Breac pounded his hand against the wood of the stall. “Think of what ye’re doin’, Ross. When Edward finds out ye’ve stolen her, there will be hell to pay. Ye would be better off marryin’ the pious sister. At least she’s not soiled and doesna carry our enemy’s bastard.”
“Plus, no one would come after us if ye took her,” said Niven. “They all think she is cursed and would probably be happy to see her go.”
“I ken what I’m doin’,” Ross said, running his hand over his horse’s withers as he spoke, not at all certain anymore that he had made the right decision.
“Are ye sure?” asked his brother. “Ye are puttin’ not only us but our clan and our country in danger with yer crazy plan.”
“I am here to take from the king someone who means somethin’ to him. Just like he did to us, Malcolm. And if I can take his bastard along with his mistress - well, then all the better.”
“Then marry her and let’s get back to Scotland already,” complained Malcolm. “That missive we intercepted from the king said he will be here soon to collect Gabrielle and the baby. The letter we forged is sure to be discovered and when it is, our heads will end up on spikes.”
“Losh me, calm down, all of ye,” Ross told them, feeling his nerves rattled by his friends questioning his decision. Mayhap he shouldn’t have involved them in this dangerous plan at all, but they were loyal to him and he admired them for always sticking with him. “I’m goin’ to marry Lady Gabrielle now that the holiday is over and we’ll leave for Scotland anon.”
“I heard the lady of the castle talkin’ about the Feast Day of the Holy Innocents,” said Niven.
“That’s right. The girl’s father said yer weddin’ canna take place until after then, as it is an unlucky day,” Malcolm pointed out.
“When is this Feast Day of the Holy Innocents?” asked Ross.
“In two days’ time,” Breac answered. “But the king could show up before then and if he does, what will ye do?”
“I’ll pray the king doesna show until after the feast day then.” Ross kissed his horse on the nose, thinking about the kiss he’d shared with Annalyse. Perhaps his friends were right and he was marrying the wrong sister. But there was naught he could do about it now. The plan was in motion and he wouldn’t rock the boat. They’d go through with it as scheduled.
“What’s the matter, guid friend?” asked Niven. “Ye look so sullen.”
“I dinna ken,” he told them, putting down the brush on a bench. “Ever since I kissed the lassie’s sister, I have to admit that I’m havin’ second thoughts.”
“Second thoughts?” Breac came quickly to his side. “What are ye thinkin’?”
“Aye,” said Niven, coming to join them. “Ye sound as if ye’re considerin’ givin’ up yer revenge.”
“Are ye?” asked Malcolm. “It would be safer. Or are ye still goin’ forward with the original plan?”
“I have no choice. We will continue with the plan,” said Ross, thinking once again about Annalyse. His gut twisted into a knot and he regretted that he would have to leave her behind. She was an outcast in her own land – an outcast within her own family. Born as a noble, she should be respected and honored, but just because she’d been born the second twin, her destiny was sealed and it wasn’t favorable at all. Annalyse didn’t deserve this treatment and he wanted more than anything to take her away with him instead of taking her bairned sister. He had to come clean and tell Annalyse about this, but he would need to make her promise not to tell anyone his secret until he was gone. But would she agree to that? Somehow, he didn’t think so. Now, he thought, mayhap, he should have taken a bite of the mince pie and made a wish of his own because this is one situation he wished he could change.
* * *
“Sit down, Gabrielle, before you fall down,” scolded Annalyse as she led her sister into the bedchamber and helped her settle herself on the bed.
“I don’t feel well,” said Gabrielle, sweat dripping from her face. Annalyse ran over to the washstand and dipped a rag in cold water. She came back and dabbed at her sister’s face.
“You’ll be all right,” Annalyse reassured her. “You always are.”
“I’m not so sure about it this time,” said Gabrielle. “I think something horrible is about to happen. I feel it in my bones. Someone is going to die.” The babies kicked just then. She let out a groan and placed her hands on her enormous belly.
“You have naught to worry about.” Annalyse said the words but in her heart, she didn’t believe them one bit. She kept thinking of her presence here possibly being the cause of this feeling. Mayhap, Gabrielle was right. Annalyse felt something unsettling in the air, as well. Hopefully, they were both wrong and nothing bad would happen.
She put the rag back into the water and settled herself on the bed next to her sister, not able to keep the thought from her mind that someone had brought ivy into the great hall and woven it into the kissing boughs. Ivy brought indoors meant death. If Gabrielle’s babies died, Annalyse realized she would be blamed for bringing bad luck to the castle in the end. No one would blame it on the ivy. “You’re going to marry that handsome man named Ross and live with him in Scotland. Everything will work out fine,” she said trying to put her sister’s fears to rest. Even with the babies blocking her connection, she still felt more fear emanating from Gabrielle than she had in her entire life. Death loomed in the air and while she would not acknowledge that she felt it, too, neither could she deny it.
“I don’t want Ross.” Gabrielle scowled and waved her hand through the air.
Annalyse’s head snapped upwards and a tinge of hope shot through her heart. “What do you mean?”
“I am in love with my king and he is the only man I want.”
“Gabrielle! You are only a mistress. Don’t forget the man is married with children of his own. And he also said he no longer wants you or the baby.”
“I don’t believe it,” she said. “I’m sure he cares about me the way I do for him and I’m sure he wants the baby. Tell me, why would he reject his own child? Something is not right.”
“Mayhap his wife found out about you.”
“Queen Philippa has known about us for some time.”
“She has? And she hasn’t sent you home long before now?”
“We have become good friends in my time of service to her.”
“How can you think you’re friends?” asked Annalyse in surprise. “You are bedding her husband!”
“Queen Philippa is a wonderful woman like no other. She is kind and sweet and very forgiving. She knows her husband has a mistress and more than likely several. She also knows she can’t stop him and has told me that she’d rather his mistress be someone she’s fond of and that she doesn’t hold it against me.”
“That is shocking,” said Annalyse. “I wonder why, then, the king said he no longer wanted you and sent you away?”
“He sent me home to have the baby. But when I received the missive, I was surprised to find out he no longer wanted the baby or me.”
“Where is the missive?” she asked. “Can I see it?”
“It’s on the table by my hairbrush.” Gabrielle’s eyes closed and she sank lower into the pillows. “Edward is superstitious. Although he doesn’t want me or his bastard, if he finds out I’ve birthed twins, he’ll consider that a bad omen. He’ll most likely order one or possibly both of the babies killed. Oh, Sister, I am so frightened. I don’t know what to do.”
“Sleep now, Gabrielle, and in the morning we will think up a plan of how to hide one of the babies, so no one – not even our father, knows you’ve birthed twins. Because if he knows, I pity the bastard who is born second.”
Annalyse picked up the
missive from the table, put it in her pocket and headed out to the orchard to read it alone. Walking through the crowded courtyard, she smiled at the children playing, wishing for children of her own. Handsome knights strolled over the cobblestone with their ladies holding on to their arms and she couldn’t help noticing the looks of love or possibly lust between them. If only she didn’t have to go back to living with the nuns, mayhap she could convince a knight or even a guard that she was not cursed and would make a suitable wife and good mother.
The day was sunny although the cold winter breeze blew strong. Still, she wanted to be alone to read the king’s missive. She made her way to the orchards, settling atop a knoll of half-dead grass under an apple tree.
Trying to hold her cloak around her to block the chill, she pulled the missive from her pocket and looked at the seal on the back. She’d seen the king’s seal made with his signet ring many times while she lived at the abbey. Running her hand over the broken seal, it seemed to have excess wax along the edges. She felt as if more wax had been added to the original stamp.
She raised her knees and coddled the missive in her lap as she carefully opened it and read the words within. The missive was messy, with some words smaller than the others. More than one blob of ink littered the parchment when normally the king’s scribe was meticulous, paying attention to the smallest of details. The writing almost seemed to be in two different scripts as well. This message went into detail of Edward not wanting Gabrielle or the baby. It also named Ross as the man her sister was to marry, saying her father was to make an alliance with Clan Douglas. King Edward was usually long-winded and sometimes sent more than one missive to convey everything he needed to say.
He also often sent a second missive to follow up the first one that had been delivered. Since this was the only missive, she highly expected another to arrive any day now.
“I can’t believe this,” she said aloud, wondering why the king would want his bastard in the hands of his enemies even if he no longer wanted Gabrielle for his mistress. Something wasn’t right here; Gabrielle was correct. She read the letter several times and then saw something she hadn’t before. Ye. Instead of the word you, one of the sentences used the word ye.
Under The Kissing Bough: 15 Romantic Holiday Novellas Page 94
