Just Beyond Tomorrow

by Bertrice Small

  Flanna gasped, her leg splashing back into the tub. She clutched the wet cloth to her chest, eyes wide at the tall, dark-haired man with the equally surprised look upon his face.

  “ ’sblood!” the gentleman exclaimed, and then he smiled. “By God, sweetheart, you are surely a sight for these eyes of mine!”

  Flanna began to shriek at the top of her lungs at the intruder. “Get out! Get out!”

  “Oh, my lady, I am so sorry!” Annie was there. “It was that dolt-headed boy in the kitchen!” She turned to the intruder. “Sir, if ye will come this way. The Duke of Lundy is in the taproom.”

  “But these are his rooms?” the gentleman inquired.

  “Aye, sir,” Annie said. “Please to follow me, and I will take ye to him.”

  “And who are you, my beauty?” the gentleman asked Flanna, his amber eyes sweeping admiringly over the tantalizing bits of her he could see.

  “Get out!” Flanna said, but she had lowered her tone now, realizing that the intruder had been seeking Charlie and had not meant to presume upon her.

  Instead, the gentleman pushed Annie from the room and, closing the door, walked over to the tub where Flanna sat. “You are obviously Lord Stuart’s friend, m’dear, though where he found you in this benighted land I have no idea. However, I consider it insulting that he should withhold such charming company from me, especially knowing what trials I have suffered and will surely continue to suffer.”

  “Ye assume, sir, and ye’re wrong,” Flanna said. “Now leave this room at once. Annie will hae gone for the duke.”

  “Since I came to see him, that will suit me quite well, sweetheart,” came the calm reply. “I don’t suppose you would consider giving me a wee kiss?” He smiled roguishly at her, leaning forward.

  “Oh, ye’re a bold one, ye are!” Flanna sputtered angrily. “If ye hae nae caught me at such a disadvantage, I should gie ye a smack!”

  The gentleman burst out laughing, genuinely amused. “You have a true redhead’s temper, I can see, sweetheart. I can only imagine that you are a wildcat in bed.”

  “Ohhhh!” Flanna cried, flinging her wet cloth at him, and then realizing she had in her temper lost her barricade between those prying amber-gold eyes and her ample bosom. “Villain!” she snarled through her gritted teeth. “Hae ye nay manners than to spy on a lady in her bath, sir? What would ye mam think?”

  “That I was incorrigible, as she has always suspected, sweetheart,” came the chortled reply. “Come, lovey, stand up and let me see your treasures. I’m sure that your duke would not mind.” He attempted a winning smile, revealing his white teeth in his swarthy complexion.

  “Ah, sir, but my duke would be most out of sorts should I do such a thing,” Flanna assured him. “Ye hae nae idea how angry he would be, will be, when I tell him of this invasion. Now, get out before I scream the inn down!”

  Again the door to the chamber opened, but this time it was Charlie Stuart who entered. Immediately he bowed low to the gentleman. “Your Majesty,” he said.

  “Cousin,” came the reply. “The gossip I manage to get said you were here, but I did not know that you had so charming a companion with you.” He grinned. “Your lady has been entertaining me.”

  “She is not mine, sir, but rather my brother’s wife. Sire, this is Lady Flanna Leslie, the Duchess of Glenkirk.” Then Charlie turned to his sister-in-law. “Well, Flanna,” he said, “you said you would not go home until you met the king. This is he.”

  Flanna looked from Charlie to the intruder. Both had dark hair, although the king’s was black. Both had amber eyes. Charlie’s nose was not quite as prominent, and his skin was lighter in tone; but the two men were alike. As the shock of it hit her, she burst into tears, confounding both of her companions. “How could you?” she sobbed. “Ohhh, how could you?”

  “Have you any idea what she is wailing about?” the king asked the Duke of Lundy.

  “None whatsoever,” Charlie replied. “I suggest we repair to the taproom for a mug of ale. The landlord has a rather excellent supply of it, I’ve already discovered.”

  “I have escaped my keepers for a short while,” the king responded. “I don’t want to be seen in public lest my presence cause a stir. We will step outside, sweetheart, and give you time to recover yourself and put some clothing on. Then I shall return with Charlie, and we’ll all have a nice goblet of something. I shall apologize for my wicked behavior, you will forgive me, and we shall be friends, eh?”

  Flanna looked up at him and nodded. Then she sneezed.

  “I’ll send the serving wench to you, sweetheart,” the king said in kindly tones.

  “Th-thank ye,” Flanna sniffled.

  The two men exited the room, and Annie hurried back into it. As Flanna stood up, the innkeeper’s daughter wrapped her in a towel that had been warming by the fire, drying her with another. Then she pulled out the clean chemise that Flanna had in her saddlebag and slipped it over her head.

  “Now, lady, into bed wi’ ye,” Annie said, and drew Flanna into the bedchamber where another little fire burned brightly. The bed had been warmed with a warming pan, and there was a flannel-wrapped brick at its foot. “I’ll tell the two gentlemen that ye are ready to receive them, and I’ll go to the taproom to bring back some hot mulled wine for ye,” Annie said. “What a bold fellow that one is!”

  “Thank ye,” Flanna replied.

  Annie hurried out, and a few moments later Charlie and the king came back into the chamber.

  “Charlie, gie me my brush,” Flanna said softly. “ ‘Tis in my pack on the stool.”

  The Duke of Lundy pulled the item from the leather bag, but to his surprise the king took it from him. Then the monarch sat next to Flanna on the edge of the bed and, reaching up, pulled the pins from her hair. He began to brush her hair, drawing the boar’s bristles slowly and carefully through Flanna’s thick red-gold mane.

  “I liked to brush my sister Mary’s hair before she went away to be married,” he explained. “She had fine hair, but yours, sweetheart, surpasses anything I have ever before seen. Its color is magnificent.”

  Both Flanna and Charlie were speechless.

  “My cousin tells me your husband does not approve of me,” the king said quietly.

  “Nay, sire! Patrick is as loyal a subject as Yer Majesty could hae,” Flanna defended her duke, “but he says that every time the Stuarts become entwined wi’ the Leslies of Glenkirk, misfortunes occur to his family. His father was killed at Dunbar. His mother hae left Glenkirk to go to France wi’ his youngest sister. He hae never before been alone, and he doesna like it. He wed me for my lands; but I canna make up for the loss of his family, sire, and for that he holds the royal Stuarts responsible.”

  “You may tell your husband when you return home, sweetheart, that I, too, have lost my family. My father was murdered, executed. My mother lives in poverty in France with my youngest sister. My brothers are I know not where at this time. My sister Elizabeth has died in her captivity. My sister Mary struggles in a foreign land to aid me and my cause. Your husband and I have more in common than he acknowledges, including his half brother, my favorite cousin, the not-so-royal Stuart,” the king said with a small smile. “I will, however, in the end prevail over my enemies, but I shall not hold it against Patrick Leslie that he does not aid me in my hour of need. I understand. The Leslies of Glenkirk have always been loyal to the house of Stuart. Patrick Leslie mourns his father deeply as I mourn mine.” The brush slicked down her tresses rhythmically.

  “Patrick may nae aid ye, Yer Majesty, but I will!” Flanna burst out. “I will go into the Highlands and raise troops for ye, if ye will gie me yer approval.”

  The brush stopped. Then the king took Flanna’s chin in his hand and smiled into her silvery eyes. “Why, sweetheart, you surely have my approval for such a generous offer, but I would not cause any breach between you and your husband.” Then he leaned forward and kissed her on the lips.

  Flanna was thunderstruck. His lips wer
e warm and, to her great surprise, very inviting. She sighed, and her mouth melted against the king’s.

  And then Charlie’s voice broke into her enchantment. “Ahh, here is Annie with your wine, Flanna. Shall I have her bring you a bit of supper here in your bed? I think that would be best.”

  For a moment she was totally confused, but then she managed to say, “Aye, Charlie, ’twould be good to stay where I am warm. I can still feel the chill from my ride.”

  The king chuckled at the bemused look she gave him. What a delicious little duchess, he thought, and very ripe for seduction. Perhaps Scotland would prove to be an entertaining place after all as long as he was forced to remain here. “Your offer of aid is not only accepted, sweetheart, but most welcome,” he told her, his amber eyes attempting to pierce the delicate fabric of her chemise. What an adorable creature with her red-gold hair, her silvery eyes with their thick lashes, and her delightfully pouty mouth. He reached over and gave her a final quick kiss upon those lips. Then, laying her hairbrush aside, he arose and bowed to Flanna.

  “Can you eat with me, cousin?” Charlie said calmly, but he was feeling far from calm. He had seen that particular look in his royal cousin’s eyes before. The king was even now contemplating how he was going to seduce Flanna, who had the same charming earthiness as the king’s previous mistress, Lucy Walters. Lucy, however, had had no husband to be offended, but Flanna certainly did.

  “I’ll take a cup of wine with you, Charlie,” the king answered. “I cannot elude my keepers for too long a time, and it costs me a fortune in bribes each time I wish to escape for even a short while.” He turned back to Flanna. “Good night, sweetheart. Sleep well, and if you dream, I hope it will be of me.” Then, blowing her a kiss from his fingertips, the king turned and left the room.

  “Stay in that bed, and do not leave this room until I come back to speak with you,” Charlie said sternly.

  Annie was wide-eyed. “Be that . . . the king?” she asked softly.

  Flanna nodded.

  “And he came to see ye?”

  “He is my brother-in-law’s first cousin,” Flanna said. “The duke’s father was Prince Henry Stuart, who died long before either ye or I were born.” She took the goblet of mulled wine from Annie’s hand and sipped it. It was hot and strong, and she somehow felt she needed it.

  “I’ll go fetch yer supper,” Annie said.

  “Dinna speak of who ye hae seen here,” Flanna cautioned.

  “Those who keep the king would be angry to learn he has slipped away from them to be wi’ his cousin. Please.”

  “The old men in the Kirk Party, always preaching at a body, and constantly at the king, ’tis said. I’ll nae tell a soul, even me da, that I have seen the dark lad,” Annie promised.

  “The dark lad?”

  “ ’Tis what they call him because his skin is darker and more French than ’tis fair like we Scots,” Annie explained. Then she hurried out, and Flanna heard her giggling for a brief moment before the dayroom door was shut tight.

  She could hear the low murmur of voices in the room beyond her, but she was unable to make out the words. Propped upon her pillows in the warm, comfortable bed, she sipped her mulled wine and contemplated the past hour. She had met the king! He had given her not one, but two kisses! Flanna Brodie, Leslie, she corrected herself, had been kissed by her king. And he had brushed her hair. She sighed. I would do anything for him, she thought silently to herself. I will go to Killiecairn, and beyond, and raise up troops for King Charles. Maybe one day we will meet again. She set her goblet aside and slipped into a light doze.

  The king prepared to take his leave of his cousin. He peeped into the bedchamber and saw Flanna asleep. “What a beauty,” he murmured softly as he closed the door again.

  “She is my brother’s wife, cousin, and not to be seduced,” Charlie said quietly. “As it is Patrick is going to be furious when he learns she is here and that she aspires to raise troops for Your Majesty.” He chuckled. “Patrick met her, wed her, and breached her virginity in the space of a day because he wanted her land to add to his and could have it no other way. She has only learned to read and write and can hardly be called sophisticated; but he has fallen in love with her, although I think he knows it not.”

  “And does she love him?” the king asked.

  “Aye, I believe she does. She wants to make him proud of her. She seeks to raise troops for Your Majesty so she will not be remembered as the do-naught duchess as she has styled herself. You will remember my mother, of course. My stepfather’s mother was also a proper hellion, not to mention the most remembered ancestress of all the Leslies who was called Janet. As legend goes, she was stolen away as a young girl, became the wife of a Turkish Sultan, and in her old age returned home to Scotland. I do not know how true this all is, but she is spoken of with reverence at Glenkirk. I suppose it’s not more unreal than my mother coming from India almost fifty years ago.”

  “And the fair Flanna seeks to be the equal of these ladies,” the king said. “She is naïve, Charlie, but not unintelligent, I suspect. She will make her mark, I am certain. As for seducing her, ahh, would that I might. I can see she would prove a delicious armful, but I was fortunate enough to escape my keepers that I might see you. Do not let them drive you away, Charlie, as they have attempted to drive the other of my friends and family away. They surround me with their Kirk Party members, and I am preached at nonstop by their ministers day and night. Every evil that has ever befallen Scotland is attributed to the godlessness of my family. I have accepted the Covenants for the sake of gaining my throne back, but—” He stopped as Charlie held up his hand in warning.

  “We cannot know who is listening on us, cousin,” Charlie said in low tones. “I understand, and I will not desert you until you have come into your own again. Only then will I return to Queen’s Malvern with my children. Our fathers were brothers. We are cousins. Our blood is the same blood. I will not leave you. You are my king.” Then Charlie, the not-so-royal Stuart, knelt before his monarch.

  The king felt tears prickling at his eyes. He blinked them back and raised Charlie up so they were once again facing each other. “I know the sacrifice you make for me, cousin, for you are not a man of politics or a man who seeks power. You desire nothing but your family and a simple, quiet life. You have to my regret lost your wife in this war, and for that I am right sorrowful; but one day, cousin, we will go home again to England.” He embraced the Duke of Lundy, and then he turned without another word and was gone from the chamber.

  Would they? Charlie wondered. Would they one day go home to England? Would he repair the damage done his home and live in that wonderful house, so filled with memories, again? He hoped that the king was correct. The door to his apartment opened up again, and Annie came in, struggling beneath the weight of a large tray. Charlie jumped to his feet to help her, taking the tray and placing it on a table.

  “Shall I fill a plate for her ladyship, my lord?” she asked.

  “Aye, and fill it full. My sister-in-law has a prodigious appetite, for a woman.” Charlie chuckled, his nose twitching at the delectable aromas arising from the covered dishes on the tray.

  Annie had brought them a roast of beef, a platter with several thick slices of ham, a capon stuffed with apples, bread, and raisins, a dish of prawns that had been steamed in white wine and were being served with a mustard sauce, a second platter containing a broiled trout, a small dish of carrots, another of braised lettuces, a hot cottage loaf, a crock of sweet butter, a half wheel of hard yellow cheese, a slice of French Brie, and a dish of baked apples with clotted cream.

  The bedchamber door opened, and Flanna, wrapped in a quilt, came out, sniffing. “I’m ravenous!” she declared.

  “Annie will bring you something,” he suggested.

  “Nay, Charlie, I’ll eat wi’ ye. We can sit by the fire. Annie, bring that other wee table and put it between us. Then run along, for I am capable of serving his lordship, and yer da will need ye wi’ the
inn so busy tonight.”

  Annie did as she had been instructed, then curtsied and departed.

  “You have recovered from your long ride, I see,” Charlie said dryly. “You looked so frail and worn I thought surely you would but nibble and sleep the night. The king looked in on you before he went.”

  “He is a striking man,” Flanna noted. “Nae handsome like my Patrick, but the lasses would nae neglect him if he were nae a king.” She handed a plate, heaped with food, to her brother-in-law. Then she began to fill the second plate for herself.

  “He was touched by your loyalty,” Charlie said, and began to eat.

  “I was nae flattering him,” she replied. “I mean to raise men for the king. I’ll go to Killiecairn first. The Brodies love a good fight, and there are so many of us it would take a burden off of my father if I took a few away. Besides, it will bring honor on my kin as well as the Leslies of Glenkirk.” She dipped a prawn into the mustard sauce and bit into it.

  “Patrick will not allow it, Flanna. Your first duty to Glenkirk is to produce an heir for my brother,” Charlie reminded her.

  “There is time,” Flanna replied easily.

  “At twenty-two you are hardly in the first flush of your youth,” Charlie said bluntly. “I was the fourth of my mother’s children, and I was born when she was twenty-two.”

  “I dinna intend haeing so many bairns as yer mam,” Flanna replied. “How will they survive? Glenkirk would end up like Killiecairn, overflowing with bairns, and eventually their bairns. Nay, I think nae.”