Under The Kissing Bough: 15 Romantic Holiday Novellas

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “Ross!” she said, knowing now the man was trying to deceive her family as well as the king. “I have to tell someone.” She jumped up. In the process, the wind blew the parchment from her hands. She chased the missive through the orchard, across the courtyard, and finally to the stables. Reaching out for it, she almost caught it, but a large booted foot came down atop it, stopping her from picking it up.

  “Lady Annalyse, it seems ye’ve lost somethin’.” Ross bent over and picked up the missive and scowled. “What are ye doin’ with this?”

  “I – I was just reading the message the king sent my sister. Now please, give it back.” She reached for it, but he moved it away.

  “Why would ye want this?”

  “It’s important. Give it to me!”

  “No’ until I tell ye somethin’ first.”

  “Whatever it is can wait. Now, please give me back the missive.”

  “This isna exactly from the king, Annalyse. Ye see - I tampered with it, but it was for a guid reason.”

  “So it was you!”

  Three Scots walked out of the stable and stopped when they saw what was going on. “Ross, what are ye tellin’ her?” asked one of them.

  “I canna keep deceivin’ her,” said Ross. “I told her the truth - that I changed the king’s missive.”

  “Nay, brathair, ye didna!” said the Scot that looked a lot like Ross, making a face. “How could ye, ye fool?”

  “Lady Annalyse, ye canna tell anyone what I did,” said Ross, still holding the parchment out of her reach.

  “I was right in thinking you weren’t to be trusted,” she snapped. “Why are you trying to deceive my family as well as the king?”

  “King Edward killed Ross’ family,” said one of the men.

  “Men, that’s enough,” snapped Ross. “Malcolm, take this and burn it.” He handed the missive to one of the Scots.

  “Nay,” she protested, knowing that was her only proof that the Scots were being deceitful. “You’ll not get away with this. I warn you, I’ll tell my father. I’ll tell everyone, even the king.”

  “Tell them what?” Ross cocked his head and, with a flick of his hand, dismissed his men. “Who would listen to ye or even believe ye, lassie? Ye said yerself that they think of ye as trouble and cursed. Ye dinna want to bring bad luck to yer family, do ye?”

  “You cur!” she spat. “Give me back that missive.” She reached out and started pounding her fists against his chest. He caught her hands in his and scooped her up in his arms. “Put me down,” she commanded as he carried her into the stable.

  “That’s exactly what I’m goin’ to do.” He plopped her down in the hay and settled himself next to her. Annalyse tried to hit him again, but he grabbed both her wrists in one of his large hands and leaned over and kissed her, causing her to forget for a moment that she was angry with him at all. “I only told ye what I did because I care for ye and didna want to lie to ye, Annalyse. I have grown fond of ye and I think ye should admit that ye feel the same way about me.”

  “I don’t! And you’ll not marry my sister if I have anything to say about it. Gabrielle loves Edward. Your horrid plan is going to ruin her life and bring strife to my family when the truth is discovered.”

  “Just keep my secret and leave things be. No one will get hurt.”

  He kissed her again and she felt herself surrendering to his manly ways. Mayhap, she should just be quiet and keep his secret as he suggested. But if she did, it would most likely bring war between the Scots and the English and she couldn’t let that happen. Neither could she let him marry Gabrielle when she wanted him, and her sister only wanted Edward. None of this was right, no matter what his reason.

  Shouting came from outside and they both jumped to their feet. Together, they ran to the stable door.

  “Lady Annalyse, where are you? Your sister needs you,” called a servant. She started to go out the door, but Ross held her arm and pulled her back to him.

  “Unless ye want to be blamed for the bad luck of this castle or even a war between the English and the Scots, I suggest ye keep my secret to yerself.”

  “I despise you for even asking me to do such a thing! I can’t just let you take my sister and the king’s bastard. It isn’t right.” She shook loose of his hold and headed out of the stable.

  “Ye can come with me to Scotland,” he told her. His words stopped her in her tracks. With those words came a sense of freedom and it was very tempting.

  If she was able to leave England and the abbey, mayhap she could live a better life in Scotland where no one thought of her as a curse. But if he married Gabrielle, she wouldn’t be able to bear the fact he took her sister to his bed each night instead of her. Once again, her sister would be the lucky one. She would just have to watch in anguish from the shadows. She turned her head slightly and spoke to him over her shoulder.

  “Why would I want to go with you? To watch you bed my sister and raise the king’s bastard as your own? I’d be nothing but a handmaid. Or did you, perhaps, have in mind that I’d want to be your mistress? Let me tell you that being a mistress is something my sister would do, but I would never even consider it. So don’t think I would!”

  “What do ye want, Annalyse, tell me,” he said, using her Christian name without her title. She liked that. It felt intimate. She also liked the way it felt to be in his arms and kissing his lips. Thoughts filled her head of the wish she’d made when she ate the mince pie. Her wish had been that he was her husband instead of Gabrielle’s. She couldn’t admit it to him because it didn’t matter. This man had a plan to get back at the English king who had taken his family from him, and she really couldn’t blame him. She knew how it felt to be without a family because hers had been taken from her long ago. While she wished she were going with him to Scotland, she selfishly wanted her sister to leave so she could get all the attention from her parents. With Gabrielle gone, mayhap her father would take her back into his home and she could regain the family she’d lost so many years ago.

  “I’ll never tell you what I want,” she spat, hurrying away from him before he kissed her again and convinced her to change her mind.

  DESTINY’S KISS

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Ross hadn’t slept much at all that night. He woke up in the stable the next morning to see Annalyse mounting a horse. It was early in the day and the sun was just showing its first rays on the horizon. The lassie was all alone and he knew she was up to no good.

  He waited until she left and then mounted his horse, not bothering with the saddle. He stayed in the shadows and tailed her to see where she would lead him. When she took the road that led to London, he realized the only place she could be going was to see the king, and he couldn’t let her do that. He waited until she stopped at a stream to water her horse and then rode up behind her.

  “Ye are no’ goin’ to tell the king anythin’, lassie.”

  She spun around so fast she almost fell over. Ross saw her going for her dagger strapped to her leg under her gown and dismounted quickly. He took the dagger before she could get it.

  “If ye go around liftin’ yer skirts and showin’ yer legs, ye’re goin’ to be askin’ for trouble.”

  “I’m already in trouble! You never should have told me the truth about the missive because now I need to do something to stop you.”

  His brother and friends had tailed her yesterday to make sure she hadn’t told anyone his secret. If she had, they would have had to leave Hetherpool immediately. “I am happy ye kept my secret, lassie, but tell me - why didna ye just tell yer faither?”

  “I . . . didn’t want to.” She looked down to the ground.

  “Ye ken that he’d blame it all on you bein’ the cursed one, right?” He hadn’t liked having to put the idea in her head that she might be blamed for the whole thing, but he had to do something to keep her quiet.

  “Yes.”

  His heart went out to her because he realized it was true. Now, he felt like he’d only made thing
s worse in her life and that wasn’t his intention. “Lassie, leave things as they are and dinna get involved.”

  “I’m already involved.”

  “How so?” He slowly let go of her arm. “Ye should just go back to the abbey and forget ye ever met me.”

  “How can I?” She looked up with tears in her eyes. “I have feelings for you, Ross, that I don’t understand. I should hate you for what you’re doing, but I don’t, and somehow I know how you feel. I didn’t tell anyone your secret because I care for you. But you have put me in a predicament because I don’t want to hurt my family, either, so I need to tell someone. Don’t you see, I have no other option?”

  “Ye are right and I feel horrible about it.” He reached out and cupped her chin in his hand. “But tell me - why do ye care for me? I need to ken.”

  “You’re the only one who has ever been kind to me or showed me any respect when everyone else shuns me and fears me. You treated me like a lady at the Christmas table and stood up for me in front of everyone, including my father.”

  “As I should,” he said.

  “Nay, you shouldn’t. You are Scottish and should hate me like everyone else does.”

  “I could never hate ye, Annalyse. Ye are an angel and I canna imagine that others canna see that, too.” He glided his hand over her cheek in a gentle caress.

  “You’re just saying that because you don’t want me to tell your terrible secret.”

  “That’s no’ so. And dinna think I havena had second thoughts about this whole thing because I have. Ever since I met ye, I have wondered if I am marryin’ the wrong twin.”

  “You’re marrying my sister for all the wrong reasons. By trying to get revenge on King Edward, you are going to hurt Gabrielle and her baby in return.”

  “I guess I wasna thinkin’ of that.”

  “Of course you weren’t. When hate and vengeance get involved, people are blinded and can’t see how they are hurting others.”

  “Ye are hurtin’, too, lassie, are ye no’?”

  “Yes! Very much so. You have put me in an awful position and I don’t know what to do.”

  “Come back to the castle with me and we can try to figure out a solution.”

  “If I go back with you, are you still going to marry Gabrielle?”

  “I dinna ken what I’ll do,” he said, feeling the tension as much as she did. He took her dagger and flung it into the trunk of a tree in aggravation. “I thought I had it all worked out, but then ye came along and now I am questionin’ every decision I make.”

  “I understand your hatred for our king and rightly so,” she told him. “But think of all the people you’re affecting with your decision of deception.”

  He nodded slowly, seeing her point, but not knowing what to do. “I’m sorry I canna give ye an answer, Annalyse, but I dinna ken what to tell ye.”

  “Then I can’t go back to the castle with you.” She stormed over and ripped her dagger from the tree, clutching it tightly in her hand.

  “I can make ye come with me if I have to and yer little dagger is no’ goin’ to stop me.”

  Her eyes met his in hesitation, and finally she nodded her head. “You are right, I can’t fight you,” she agreed. “I’ll return to my father’s castle with you and stay quiet, but only for one more day. On the morrow, you will give me your decision. You can go back to Scotland alone and I will keep silent about what I know, or you can marry my sister and I will tell everyone of your deception.”

  “Let’s go,” he told her, guiding her to her horse. “I will give ye my answer on the morrow, but no matter what I decide, ye willna ever tell me what to do again!”

  DESTINY’S KISS

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Annalyse tossed and turned all night long, having dreams of Ross kissing her and making love to her and marrying her instead of her sister. It was as if he’d invaded her dreams and was trying to make her feel guilty, when instead, he was the one who should feel guilty.

  A knock at her door woke her. She sat up in bed to find Gabrielle peeking inside the room.

  “Get up, sleepy head,” said her sister, waddling over to the window to pull the tapestry away. With it came the sunshine but also a crisp breeze.

  “Oh, close it. I’m cold,” complained Annalyse, burrowing down into the covers. Her hand snaked under the pillow and something pinched her. “Ow!” she said and pulled away from the pillow, holding up a sprig of greenery. “How did this get here?”

  “That’s mistletoe from the kissing bough,” said Gabrielle, sitting down at the edge of the bed. “I put it under your pillow last night.”

  “Why would you do a thing like that?” Annalyse yawned and stretched.

  “Did you dream of a man last night?” she asked. Since Annalyse was still sleepy, she answered, not thinking of what she was saying.

  “Yes! The handsome Scotsman, Ross, invaded my dreams all night long and I couldn’t get rid of him.”

  “Ross?” Gabrielle giggled. “Oh my, that is funny.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Sister, you obviously do not remember the Christmas legends. If you sleep with a sprig of mistletoe under your pillow, you will dream of the man you are going to marry.”

  “Marry?” That got her attention and she pushed upward on the bed. “But I can’t marry Ross. He is betrothed to you!”

  “Mayhap you can,” she said with a smile.

  “Gabrielle, what do you mean? And why do you seem so happy this morning?”

  “I am happy because I received another missive today from Edward.”

  “Edward?” Her heart sped up. “Do you mean our king?”

  “King . . . lover . . . whatever you want to call him.” She played with the velvet bed curtains and kicked her feet in the air. “He’s changed his mind and still wants the baby and me. He is on his way here to be with me when I give birth.”

  “What?” She threw off the covers and put her feet over the edge of the bed. “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure. The missive said he should be here sometime today.”

  “Oh, Sister, I am so happy for you!” She thought of Ross and his deception, and her smile disappeared. No matter what the consequences were, she had to tell her sister. Perhaps she could somehow convince Gabrielle to keep Ross’ secret as well. “Gabrielle, I have something I need to tell you.”

  “Whatever it is can wait until after we break the fast. These babies are hungry and I need some food.” Gabrielle struggled to get off the bed and Annalyse helped her. But as soon as she got to her feet on the floor, Gabrielle doubled over in pain and water from her womb leaked down her legs.

  “Oooooh, I think it’s time,” she moaned. A look of pain, as well as fear, spread across her face.

  “Gabrielle, are the babies coming?” Annalyse hurried around the room and dressed quickly.

  “Yes! Go find the midwife, please,” said her sister holding on to the bedpost.

  “Let me help you lie down on the bed first.” Annalyse helped her sister to get comfortable while her mind told her that they had to keep these births a secret. “Gabrielle, we can’t trust the midwife to keep our secret.”

  “Yes, we can,” she said and moaned again. “She is the same midwife that birthed us. I assure you she knows how to keep a secret.”

  “Why do you say that? Is there a secret she’s kept?”

  “Just go get her,” she ordered, moaning in pain. “Tell mother, too. She will want to be here. Just be certain not to tell father until after we decide how to hide the second twin.”

  “I’m going,” she said and hurried out the door. Making her way quickly to the great hall, she stopped at the entrance realizing nobody was in there but a few servants. Shouting and noise caught her attention from the courtyard. She quickly exited the great hall, horrified to find adults beating children with switches. The children wailed loudly and her heart went out to them.

  “Stop it! Stop hitting the children,” she said, racing forward. But
her father intercepted.

  “Annalyse, you’re making a spectacle of yourself. Now hush up,” he told her.

  “Father, they are hitting the innocent children! Make them stop it.”

  “It’s the Feast Day of the Holy Innocents,” he reminded her. “You might not know about this since they don’t do it at the abbey, but I assure you it’s a tradition.”

  “Nay, they don’t do this at the abbey and neither should anyone do it here.”

  “It’s done to remind others of the day Herod ordered all the babies killed as he tried to find the Baby Jesus,” he told her.

  “Babies,” she said, her heart jumping. She had almost forgotten that her sister was above stairs all alone and about to birth her babies.

  “This is a bad luck day, Daughter. No one does anything of importance upon this cursed day.”

  “Cursed day,” she repeated, wondering what her father would say when he found out his grandchildren were born on this day. He would probably blame everything on them for their entire life, not unlike what he’d done to her.

  A young boy dressed as a bishop walked through the courtyard next. She remembered that it was a mock production and the boy chosen for this could do everything that a clergyman could do, except for saying mass. This event happened only on the Feast Day of the Holy Innocents.

  “The mock marriages are happening now,” said her father. “Where is your sister? I’d like her to marry the Scot in a mock marriage to prepare for the real one.”

  “Gabrielle is . . . taking a bath,” she lied. “She won’t be able to participate.”

  She saw Ross and his men gathering around the young boy who was acting as bishop for the day. Anyone participating in the mock marriage would be married for the day only. On the morrow, all would go back to normal.

  “You can step in for her so the Scot can practice.” Her father pushed her forward and directed her across the crowded courtyard and toward the boy bishop.