Henry Lindley’s mouth fell open with his shock. “You didn’t!” he gasped, horrified. “My God, Patrick, you are a great fool!”
“I was jealous,” the duke admitted.
“Worse! A jealous fool,” his brother said. “Well, now I understand your situation. It is nothing at all what I anticipated. If you had no reason to suspect your wife of being unfaithful, Patrick, other than the facts as you have recited them to me, why on earth did you ask such a question?”
“She was still attempting to raise a levy for the king,” Patrick admitted, shamefaced. “Her father was ill unto death, and her eldest brother came for her. She went to Killiecairn wi’ him and intended to begin her recruitment there. Then she said she would go on to Huntley.” He sighed. “Her family laughed at her for her pretensions and refused to hae any part in her plans. They also decided to bring her back to me before she could run off. Only when she returned to Glenkirk did she tell me she was wi’ bairn, and I, fool I am, asked that awful question.”
“ ’Tis a wonder she didn’t kill you,” Henry said, shaking his head. “You know, of course, what you must do to heal this unfortunate rift.”
The duke nodded. “Aye, I must apologize to my wife and beg her forgiveness. Even then I wonder if I can ever heal the breach.”
“If she loves you, she will forgive you,” Henry said wisely. “That she left you for a time tells me that. Rather than remain here to let your words fester each time she saw you, she went to Brae and has occupied herself ever since in the restoration of her mother’s home. God’s blood, Patrick, your wife was a respectable girl from a good family. She had no reputation for deceit. I do not have to tell you what our mother would have done if Jemmie Leslie had asked her such a question.”
“Flanna is nae our mother,” Patrick said irritably. He knew he had done the wrong thing, and having Henry carry on about it so was like his brother rubbing salt into his raw wound.
“Nay, she isn’t our mother, but any decent woman would have been offended by such a query.” Then Henry Lindley smiled. “Now I am even more curious to meet your wife, little brother. That she didn’t kill you speaks well of her character and her patience.”
“They call her Flaming Flanna, and nae just for her red hair,” Patrick told his elder sibling.
Henry laughed heartily. “Well,” he said, “we shall see whether that temper has been calmed when we go to Brae tomorrow. Have you seen her since she left you?”
Patrick shook his head. “She said I was nae to come. I took her at her word, for Flanna is a woman who speaks plainly.”
“So you have not seen your wife in over three months, Patrick?” Henry laughed again. “This is, indeed, a formidable woman that you have married, brother, that you obey her will so easily.”
“I dinna want to harm the bairn,” the duke answered.
“Ahhh,” Henry said, “so there is no doubt in your mind that it is your child?”
“Nay, there isna, Henry,” his brother admitted. “She was a virgin when I married her, and a woman of firm principles. I love her, but when I saw her wi’ another man, my jealousy simply overcame me. I know Flanna would nae betray me.”
“You had best tell her that immediately when we reach Brae tomorrow, then,” Henry advised.
“I intend to,” Patrick said. “I never want her from me again.”
“After you fetch Charlie back to Glenkirk,” Henry said.
Patrick Leslie sighed deeply. “Verra well,” he reluctantly agreed, “but ye must remain here at Glenkirk wi’ my wife while I am gone, Henry. I canna leave Flanna wi’ nay one but a houseful of servants and three young bairns. Angus Gordon hae nae the authority that ye do.”
“I will stay,” Henry said. “It should not take you that long, riding out alone.”
“Aye,” Patrick agreed. “I’ll hae to go alone. If I traveled wi’ a troop of my men, it might be believed that I was joining the king. I dinna want that. I am safer alone and can move more quickly. Once Charlie and I begin our return journey to Glenkirk, anyone watching will nae think us a threat, for we will be going in the wrong direction for a fight.”
In the morning, the two brothers set off for Brae with their niece and two young nephews. As they exited the forest and came onto the shore of Loch Brae, they stopped for a moment to rest their mounts and to look across the blue water to the small, dark stone castle.
“ ’Tis beautiful!” Brie cried, clapping her hands together. “No wonder Aunt Flanna wants to live there!”
“Is nae Glenkirk beautiful, Brie?” the duke asked.
“Yes, uncle, and bigger, too. Glenkirk is impressive and grand for all it is small, but Brae! ’Tis like something out of a knight’s tale. I have never seen a castle on an island.”
They rode around the loch until they finally reached the bridge connecting the island and the main shore. The bridge, which had been so rotted and rickety when he had last been at Brae, was now rebuilt. Their horses clopped slowly across the span. Patrick noted that much of the growth that had obscured his view several months prior was now gone. While some trees remained in the field between the bridge and the castle itself, one could now see the structure quite plainly. They rode from the bridge up a narrow road through those trees and into Brae.
A new stable had been constructed of timbers and stone with a sturdy slate roof. This stable would better stand the test of time than had the previous one. The courtyard was swept clean, and it was very quiet. There were no workmen in evidence. The duke looked up and could see from his vantage that the castle roof was also restored. He led his party up the stairs and into the castle itself. Ian More saw the duke and, bowing, hurried forward.
“Yer Grace,” he greeted his master. “The lady is awaiting ye in her hall.” He led them into the Great Hall of Brae where a fire burned this day in the fireplace.
Flanna arose slowly from her place, smiling at the look on her husband’s face as he viewed her for the first time in several months. “Welcome to Brae, my lords,” she saluted them. “Ian, fetch wine for our guests and some sweets for the bairns.” She then held out her arms to the three children, who rushed to hug her.
“Aunt,” Sabrina said, “you are so . . . so . . .”
“Fat!” Willy said.
Flanna laughed. “That is because I hae a bairn growing inside of me, Willy. When the bairn pops itself out, I shall be slender again.”
“When will the bairn be ready, aunt?” Freddie wondered.
“Soon,” Flanna told them. “Now, here is Aggie. Run to her, and she will show ye all of my wee Brae.” She turned to Patrick when the children had left them, and said, “Well, sir, what hae ye to say to me? Or will ye continue to persist in yer foolishness?”
“Will ye accept my apology, lass?” he replied simply, thinking now that he had begun, the words were not hard at all to say.
“If ye will admit to being a jealous fool, I may,” she responded.
“I love ye, Flanna. I lost both my temper and my wits when I saw another man admiring ye. Please forgie me, lass. I hae been miserable wi’out ye, and I want ye to come home,” Patrick Leslie told his wife honestly. She was, he realized, more important to him than his injured pride.
Her eyes filled with quick tears, which immediately spilled down her cheeks. “I forgie ye, Patrick, wi’ all my heart, for how can I nae when I love ye so verra much?”
He put his arms about her and kissed the salty tears from her pale face. “Ye’ll come back?”
“Of course I will,” she said, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. “Glenkirk’s next duke should be born in his own home.”
“Ahem!” The Marquis of Westleigh coughed discreetly.
The lovers broke apart, laughing, and the duke introduced his eldest brother to his wife.
“Ye’re most welcome to Brae, sir, and to Scotland,” Flanna said, thinking that he was very handsome. She particularly admired his turquoise eyes.
“And I, madame, am most delighted to meet the lady wh
o has brought my little brother to both his knees and his senses,” Henry Lindley teased her with a smile.
Flanna colored prettily, saying, “Now I hae met two of my husband’s brothers. I am sorry I canna know yer mam.”
“She’ll come back one day,” Henry promised her, “but come, madame, and sit down again. My wife has given me several children. I know what a woman needs at this point in her life, even if my dunderhead of a brother does not.” He led Flanna back to her chair and seated her. “Now, tell me, when is the heir or the heiress due to enter this world? I should like to remain for the event so I may report it directly to our mother, whom your husband has yet to inform of his marriage to you. I assume only Charlie knew.”
“Only because he came wi’ his bairns last autumn,” Patrick answered his brother. “How am I to send a message to our mother in the midst of all this strife, Henry? Few come visiting to Glenkirk. Perhaps a rare peddler, or tinker, but could I trust such a person to bring a letter, and where? At least there is some traffic between England and France. ’Tis easier for ye than ’tis for me. I’ll send a letter wi’ ye when ye return to Cadby. Ye can get it to our mam, for ye hae been corresponding wi’ her all along.”
Suddenly Flanna said quietly, “Why hae ye come to Glenkirk, my lord? And how did ye arrive unscathed? The little that we hear tells us that the English occupy Edinburgh, and that King Charles prepares to invade England and regain it. Why, then, are ye here? Should ye nae be wi’ yer family?”
“I should,” Henry Lindley agreed with a smile, “but I am instead here. Our mother is afraid for Charlie’s life. She wants him at Glenkirk and not with King Charles. As an Englishman, I cannot be seen in the company of Charles Stuart’s army, nor his person, lest I be accused of being a traitor to the current government. Patrick, however, can.”
Ian More brought the gentlemen wine, and when he had served them, he handed Flanna a goblet of spring water which she now favored.
“Ye’re an Englishman, sir, and yet ye canna be seen wi’ yer king? I dinna understand,” Flanna said, and then she took a sip from her goblet. “Do ye nae want yer king back, sir?”
“Cromwell is too strong, and the king not yet strong enough,” Henry began his explanation. “The king has been told that those of us who support him, who are called Royalists, will rise up to champion him when he comes to England. It is not so, Flanna. The king’s adherents in England have survived by remaining silent and invisible. We will continue to do so because the time is not right for the restoration of our monarchy. I do not know when that time will be. In the meantime, it would be foolish of us to lose our homes and everything we hold dear, or to beggar our families and endanger our friends by imprudent conduct. There are those who do not agree with me, but believe me, they are in a minority. I will support a legitimate government, but I will not lose my ancestral home, nor everything my family cherishes, in the cause of an absent king. I cannot.
“Our mother has written of her fears for Charlie. She appreciates his loyalty to the royal Stuarts, but she does not want to lose him in this quest of the king’s. I lied to the authorities in order to obtain a pass to reach Glenkirk from England. Now Patrick must go to wherever the king has his encampment and make our brother see reason. Charlie must return to Glenkirk and his children. If the Parliamentary forces catch him with the king, they will execute him.”
“I dinna think Charlie will leave his cousin,” Flanna said slowly. “His loyalty to the king is great. So great he was able to dissuade me from my wifely duties, and I attempted to join the king’s battle myself. He will nae come. But if he does nae come, then that is his decision, for he is a man grown. However, since his mam wishes it, Patrick must go to find Charlie and attempt to turn his heart. If she had known he was wed, and expecting a bairn, I dinna think she would hae asked such a thing of him; but she dinna know, and so he must go.”
They were both astounded by her words. The brothers had expected Flanna to weep and cry. They had expected shrieking, and screaming, and all manner of womanly tactics. Instead, they had been given reluctant logic. She understood. She did not like it, but she understood.
The Marquis of Westleigh arose and took his sister-in-law’s two hands in his. He kissed them. “Madame,” he said, “you are the most sensible female I have ever encountered. I salute you!”
Flanna looked up at him with a serious demeanor, withdrawing her hands from his. “I am nae pleased by this situation,” she said, “but I understand the importance of family, Henry.” She turned to look at her husband. “When will ye go?” she asked him.
“Fairly soon,” he said, and his green-gold eyes were filled with his love and admiration for her.
“Then, we hae best return to Glenkirk in the morning. I am at the point, I fear, where I must travel slowly, my lords. It will take us the day. If ye wish to leave me now, Patrick, and depart in the morning, ye hae my permission. Yer brother will escort me in safety.”
“Nay,” he quickly answered her. “I will remain the night wi’ ye and take ye home myself tomorrow. I will leave the day after.”
“If the children have had their curiosity satisfied,” Henry said, “I shall return with them to Glenkirk today. Your man, Ian, can ride with us. I’ll send back a cart and an escort for Flanna on the morrow, brother. Ye hae been separated and now are to be separated again. I know if it were me, I should like an evening alone with my wife.”
Flanna smiled at him. “Ye’re a tactful man, sir,” she said.
The three Stuart children were gathered up along with Ian. It was decided that Aggie would depart, too, and she ran to fetch her belongings.
“We hae to eat,” the duke murmured to his wife.
“The supper is in the kitchen,” Flanna said. “I will serve ye myself. I dinna grow up being waited upon hand and foot, although I will admit to enjoying it,” she chuckled.
The children came to protest, but Flanna waved them away.
“Now, bairns,” she told the trio, “I’ll be home tomorrow. Yer uncle and I hae nae seen each other in months. We want to spend a wee bit of time alone. Besides, I hae nae beds for ye to sleep in, and ’twould be a bit rough for ye. Willy is too young for it.”
They departed reluctantly as Patrick and Flanna stood in the gates of Brae, waving them off.
“I remember the first day I set foot here,” he told her. “Ye shot at me wi’ yer bow and arrows. I think I loved ye then, though I knew it nae.” His arm rested lightly about her shoulders.
“Is that why ye tied me up and brought me back to my da on yer saddle?” she teased him. “Come, and help me close the gates now.”
“ ’Tis too much for ye, lassie,” he said.
Flanna threw him an exasperated look. “Patrick,” she said, “I close these gates every evening by myself. It requires little but pushing, and Ian puts the bar across. Ye can do that for me.”
“Even when the clansmen were working here ye closed the gates?” he inquired of her.
“Aye, I did. I fear no man, but I dinna want a badger in my pantry, ye understand,” she explained. “When we arrived, we couldna get into the kitchen for a week for a wildcat hae her litter there. Fortunately she soon moved them.”
He nodded. Then he lifted the big oak bar and set it into its place across the two great gates.
“Come along,” she said briskly. “We’ll eat in the kitchen. I’m nae of a mind to traipse up and down the stairs in my condition.” She led him around the courtyard, through a small garden, and down a narrow flight of steps into the warm kitchen.
The room was neat, swept, and clean. A fire burned in the hearth where a lidded iron pot bubbled noisily over the flames. There was the scent of fresh bread baking. In the center of the room was a well-scrubbed oak table. The duke sat down while his duchess opened a cupboard and brought forth two pewter plates and mugs which she put upon the table. One set before him, and the other to his right. From a basket on the cupboard shelf, she pulled out two carved wooden spoons she added to the
place settings. He watched her, fascinated. Patrick Leslie didn’t ever recall having seen his mother in a kitchen.
Flanna went to the fireplace and, opening a little iron door to one side of it, peered in. Apparently satisfied, she shoved a wooden paddle into the oven and drew out a loaf of bread which she put, paddle, pan, and all, upon the table. Disappearing into the buttery, she soon returned with a little tub of butter and a half wheel of hard yellow cheese. These she set upon the table. She gathered up the plates from the table and went to the hearth. Using a two-tined toasting fork, she lifted the lid from the bubbling kettle. A plume of steam arose from the pot. Flanna smiled, and placing one of the plates on the floor, she dipped a spoon she had drawn from her pocket into the pot and filled the plate. Then, placing it before her husband, she returned to fill the second plate for herself. Sitting down at the table, she upended the bread pan, freeing the loaf, and cut two chunks of bread for them, shoving one at him. “Eat!” she instructed him.
Patrick dipped his spoon into his plate. The aroma of a rabbit stew assailed his nostrils. He realized how hungry he was as he began to eat. The stew had a fine brown gravy. It was filled with carrots and small onions. The meat was tender.
“Damn!” Flanna muttered irritably.
“What’s the matter?” he asked her.
“The wine is on the high board in the hall,” she said.
“There must be something down here,” he replied.
“There’s a keg of ale,” she admitted.
“Where?” he queried.
“In the pantry,” she told him.
He gathered up their mugs and went into the pantry, returning a moment later with two mugs of the foaming ale. “I like ale wi’ my stew,” he told her. “It makes the game tastier, lass.” Then he grinned at her. “ ’Tis a cozy supper we’re haeing, Flanna Leslie. We must see that Henry returns to England wi’ some of our fine whiskey. ’Twill travel better than salmon or haggis,” Patrick said. He sliced two large pieces of cheese and offered her one.
“Aye. ’Twas most politic of him to leave us alone, although we surely canna play our lover’s games wi’ my great belly,” Flanna responded. “Still, I will enjoy feeling yer bulk next to me tonight, Patrick. I hae missed ye. Why could ye nae come and apologize sooner?”
Just Beyond Tomorrow Page 29
