―Kathleen came to live here last week,‖ Mary tossed over her shoulder as they turned a corner into another corridor dimly lit by sconce light. ―We were in need of a cook. Bessie can no‘ hardly walk anymore. Gout ye know. Always comes on when the weather starts to grow cold.‖ She hesitated mid-stride to allow Ruark to catch up to her.
―Now Kathleen lives at Stonehaven with her family, so her children can be properly schooled with the other local children. Duncan found an unused structure and everyone turned out this week to make the thing into a school. ‘Tis that old hunting lodge between here and the village. Ye remember the place. No one has used it in years.‖
Aye, Ruark knew the place. He and Rose had spent a blissful night in that lodge.
Mary continued walking. ―Everyone is there now. Our mistress wanted to include the tenants‘ families in the final hours of the celebration, and so Duncan and Angus and some of the other lads hunted a boar in the western woods and brought it back this morn. They‘ve set up a bonfire from the wood they cleared around the new school.‖
Mary turned at the bottom of the stairs and placed her hand on the newel post. Ruark stopped in front of her. ―Is there anything else I should know before I go in search of my wife?‖
―A week ago, Mrs. Simpson arrived toting with her a lad named Jack. She heard of our ladyship‘s marriage and wished personally to meet her Scot‘s husband.‖
Ruark turned on his heel but Mary snatched his sleeve. ―But no‘ lookin‘ like an heathen Pict from the North Country.‖
Colum‘s chuckle ended in a throaty cough as Mary turned her fierce look on him. ―Ye look worse, Bryce Colum. Now upstairs with ye both. You‘ve been gone three weeks. Another hour will no‘ matter.‖
But to Ruark another five minutes was longer than he was willing to wait to see Rose. He‘d bathed yesterday in an ice-cold river, and at least the clothes he wore had been washed three days ago at the last inn where he and Colum had stayed. Last night, he‘d even removed the silver hoop from his earlobe.
Leaving Colum to deal with the horses, Ruark walked through the crowd, aware that as he passed, people stopped what they were doing and stared. He vaguely recognized Stonehaven‘s blacksmith and nodded. Rushlights dotted the fields where jugglers and ropedancers, probably left over from the Lammas celebration in a neighboring shire, entertained the children. A dozen tents filled with what remained of someone‘s apple or peach harvests, pies and other goods were closing as most had clearly been here all afternoon. He could smell Duncan‘s roast pig on the breeze and hear the faint strands of the fiddle coming from farther away. A shimmering orange glow from the bonfire brightened the nighttime sky. As he drew closer, he could hear the strains of laughter and cheer.
―Lord Roxburghe!‖ someone called.
He turned on his heel. His first glance fell on Duncan, but it was the woman dressed in bright yellow beside him who was smiling. The fiscal‘s wife. He had not seen her since he had been a lad in short pants. ―We did not expect you for another few days,‖ she said. ―You remember me?‖
―Kathleen,‖ he said. She was six years older than he was. ―Who can forget the prettiest girl in the shire?‖
Then he straightened and acknowledged Duncan with a curt nod. Both Duncan and Kathleen carried an armful of wooden trenchers.
―Do you know where I can find my wife?‖ he asked Kathleen.
She shifted her load and pointed to the lodge. ―She was with Julia in our new soon-to-be school, but that was an hour ago. You might try the bonfire, where dancing has started. Have ye seen the school?‖
―Perhaps later,‖ he said politely.
Through a narrow break in the crowd, he glimpsed the high-stepping dancers. People clapped to the fiddler as they watched a spirited reel. He did not see her at first among the dancers. He had been looking at the spectators. Ruark shouldered through the onlookers encircling the line of the brightly lit dancers and stopped at the circle‘s edge.
She had told him once she did not know how to dance. And he wondered when she‘d learned. Jason danced across from her. Gavin stood at her side. He didn‘t know the names of the other dancers young and old alike.
She wore nothing more elegant than a simple blue muslin sloping from the wide neckline to a point at her narrow waist, yet the front-laced bodice clung to high curves of her breast and her skirts flowed around her slender form. With each sprightly step, she revealed a pair of shapely ankles. Giving her right hand to Jason, she changed places with the female on his right, then the male on her left. The steps went on until Jason grabbed her hands and, laughing brightly, she and Jason danced up the middle of the line toward him.
Heat emanating from the bonfire seemed to burn through Ruark‘s clothes and into his blood.
He had ridden days to get back to her, worried as hell, only to find she had not only survived perfectly without him but that she had thrived.
He stepped forward just as a hand clapped on his shoulder. He thought Duncan had come up on him. Already in a killing state of mind, his first instinct was to grab the arm and turn with just enough pressure to break the contact. But the owner of that firm grip belonged to Angus.
―She‘s no‘ done anything wrong, lad,‖ he said, his voice mild. ―We‘ve been with her the night. All of us.‖
On the other end of the circle, he glimpsed Duncan‘s hard gaze. He saw Jamie and the boy next to him Ruark remembered as Jack.
The fiddlers stopped playing abruptly. The dancers groaned. Confused by the sudden halt of music, shouts of encouragement to continue playing rose among the crowd. Breathless, Rose turned. She was hot and flushed, her nape damp beneath her hair. She shoved aside a wayward lock of hair, her laughter dying as she met Ruark‘s gaze.
He stood at the circle‘s edge. His name went over the crowd like a whisper of wind as his presence began to draw more attention. He felt the tension leave his muscles. His sanity returned. Maybe ‘twas the way she looked at him. But he felt that touch to his soul.
Her gaze dropped in confusion to Angus‘s hand on his shoulder. By her expression, she must have guessed what he had been about to do. ―My lord,‖ she said, and left him to close the short distance between them, which he did, but not without seeking a reward for the effort.
The dust of the road still clinging to his clothes, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. The crowd exploded in cheers. Their laird was back, business settled. Now he wanted his wife to himself. Her hands closed into fists against his shoulders.
Against her lips, he said, ― ‘Tis time to leave.‖
―I will not,‖ she said between her teeth. ―Kathleen and Julia went to a great deal of trouble tonight. ‘Tis rude merely to leave because you . I . have not even eaten supper.‖
―I will feed you upon our return.‖
―This is your brother‘s birthday, have you taken the time to wish him well? Since you have returned from your twelve-year-and-nine-month hiatus on the sea, have you spent any time with your tenants? Visited the village?‖
―I have been a bit occupied, love. As you well know.‖
―Aye, so occupied you could not wait to leave Stonehaven after Jedburgh. I know these people better than you do. Your people. Your family.‖
―I am glad, Rose.‖ He touched his lips to her ear. ―But as much as I enjoy these moments together, I have not changed my clothes in days, and I have slept little these past weeks. All I want is to bathe and take you to bed.‖ He turned her in his arms so that they both faced the crowd.
Angus raised a mug in toast. ―To our laird and his bonny bride.‖
More bantering went around. ―We‘ll not be mindin‘ if ye wish to take the lass from us tonight,‖ someone shouted over the laughter.
Ruark waited for the drinking to finish. ―Aye, lads, we were just discussing our possibilities. She‘s missed me.‖
More laughter. Rose squirmed from him. ―You cannot be gone for weeks, then return and with the snap of your fingers think I will jump.‖
―Looks to me like she‘s already forgotten ye, my lord,‖ another barked from the back of the crowd, and laughter followed as other men and women alike joined in the good-natured ribbing. ―Maybe ye just have to remind her a bit harder.‖
Rose looked shocked and he almost felt sorry for her. But the Scots were an earthy bunch and less inclined to a civilized fight when it came to their patriotism, their home, and their women. What she did not understand was if they did not truly love and care for her, none would have raised their cups in toast.
Everyone expected him to take her from here, and never one to disappoint, Ruark picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, to the eruption of applause. ―Now if you will all excuse me, it has been a long time and I would like to take my bonny bride home to bed.‖
Chapter 21
Lying across Ruark‘s shoulder, her fists pounding on his back, Rose stopped shouting only when he slowed to instruct Colum to see that the boys and Julia got back to Stonehaven safely.
Deaf to Rose‘s fury, Ruark swung her up on Loki, then mounted behind her. He settled her across his lap. He placed his palm across her stomach to hold her firmly against his chest as he bent to secure the reins. Then he galloped away from the celebration she had helped organize. He rode for a mile in his estimation before he felt her shuddering inhalation, as if the effort would calm the race of her heartbeat that thumped so heavily against his palm. His mind was too awash with whatever she was feeling to define his own emotions.
Her full mouth, inviting his gaze, remained neither flat nor pursed, hinting only of the intensity of her control.
―Are you planning to remain silent all the way home?‖ Ruark asked.
Apparently, she was. He could kidnap her. Twice. Wed her against her will. But he could not make her talk.
He waited until he had ridden a suitable distance from the lodge, until he could no longer see the glow of orange in the sky from the bonfire. Then he reined in Loki. ―Dammit, Rose.‖
His hand swept along the taut curve of her waist, and he turned her in his arms. A gust of wind snatched the hem of her dress. She did not resist him, not because his physical strength made escape impossible, but because her power against him lay in submission.
He rubbed his thumb across her cheekbone. The moonlight revealed her eyes, wet with hurt. In the charged silence, all he wanted to do was kiss her.
The magnitude of his desire had reached proportions startling even to him. Desire he was only beginning to understand.
He had wanted her since the first time he had seen her at the abbey. A passion that had slowly grown and fed upon itself, that had awakened him at night these past weeks, that had stopped him in the middle of a meal or a conversation as he remembered her touch, the scent and texture of her hair, the taste of her on his lips, and why he had wanted to get home to her.
He caught her chin with two fingers. ―Rose . ‖
―Let go of me. Please.‖
―Tell me you did not miss me,‖ he cajoled.
He could read the answer in her eyes. She would be lying if she told him nay. His hands came over her breasts to undo the laces on her bodice. ―You would force me, Ruark?‖ The question was a wounded whisper.
He stared at her upturned face. She was his wife. She must know there could be no question of force.
He paused. His eyes closed briefly, then opened.
―Tonight ‘twas a bit of good sport for all, Rose. We are just wed. I have been absent nearly a month. No one thinks less of you.‖
She looked surprised that he understood her feelings. ‘Twas not only his actions that injured her. It had been the ribbing and laughter from everyone else. Claimed by her Scottish laird. She felt betrayed by their ribaldry as their laird carted her off like a sack of grain. The conquering hero comes home to his bride, and everyone has a wonderful time at her expense.
His statement galvanized her. ―How dare you arrive home after being gone three weeks and show such disrespect. I worked weeks cultivating trust and what I believed to be friendships. I met the tenants, visited the village elders. I had so wanted to show you my school when you returned. I do not want to care, yet I cannot pluck the hurt from my heart as if ‘tis a splinter easily removed.‖
Indeed, she had seen something different in his actions from what everyone else recognized. She knew his actions for exactly what they had been as she‘d first seen him in the cemetery when he had forcibly taken her from Hope Abbey. And she was correct in her assessment.
From her point of view, his behavior only reinforced a long list of grievances and hurts. Her entire life had been bartered away by another, her worth calculated by her value in gold and lands and political power, not by what she could give from her heart.
Her tears started sliding down her cheeks and he knew she blamed him for that as well. The startling honesty of her hurt finally settled against him. He didn‘t reply to her. Not for a long time.
Then he kicked his heels against Loki and they rode the rest of the way to Stonehaven in silence. She didn‘t wait for him to rein in completely before sliding off the horse. Catching up her skirts, she walked up the stairs to Stonehaven‘s front door, as regal as royalty, as if she‘d been born into the role of countess, not stopping as the butler appeared. She swept into the entry hall past an openmouthed Mary and Mrs. Simpson, who had remained behind to enjoy tea with an old friend. The two of them sat in the parlor and came to their feet as Rose walked past them and up the stairway.
Ruark remained on the horse, one wrist crossed over the other on the pommel for a few minutes, watching the whole thing through the tall window. Then he dismounted and gave the reins over to the startled stable lad who stood with his mouth agape.
He followed Rose‘s path up the stairs to the door. Rose‘s icy silence back to Stonehaven was not the only source of his surly mood. He stepped into the entry hall as the distant slamming of a door reverberated through the house.
The butler made no comment as Ruark handed him his riding gloves. ―I will need a bath and supper brought up to my wife.‖
―Aye, my lord.‖
Ruark stopped in front of the small parlor where guests usually awaited the master of the manse‘s leisure. It was a brightly colored room unlike the darker-paneled entry hall. It was simply fitted without heavy tapestry and finished off with blue upholstered furniture. He rarely used the front entrance of the house and had not been to this room in years. It had been his mother‘s entertaining room.
He found Mary standing. ―I left Colum to see that Julia and the two boys are returned home safely. Where is Duncan sleeping these days?‖
―He stays at the gatehouse.‖
His gaze briefly touched the pert gray-haired woman next to Mary, and he accepted an introduction. Sophia Simpson wore fine gray linen that despite its severity made her look regal. She looked to be in her sixties and better-dressed than one would have expected of someone he had imagined living in a simple thatched cottage outside Castleton. ―Mrs. Simpson is the expert on Arthurian legend of which I spoke,‖ Mary said.
The woman did not curtsey but seemed to be studying him, her opinion of him not visible in the blue eyes that held his. ― ‘Twas my husband who was the real expert,‖ she demurred after a moment. ―Rose herself had an interest in a particular relic. Though she informed me ‘twas no longer in her possession. I wonder if the person wearing it now has found his life greatly changed.‖
This woman had brought Jack to Stonehaven, someone clearly special to Rose, and she knew about the ring. Who was to say his life would not have changed in the same manner without the ring? But something had indeed changed inside him, touching on emotions and hopes and dreams he‘d buried so deeply he thought them forever gone.
―I am pleased to make your acquaintance,‖ he said.
Strangely, he was pleased. He saw a lot of Rose in Mrs. Simpson‘s demeanor. She politely inclined her head. ―Likewise, my lord. Welcome home. Rose has missed you despite what you might think.‖
―Perhaps I will see you at breakfast,‖ he said, a corner of his mouth turning up.
Mary cleared her throat. ―Her ladyship has given me leave to accompany Mrs. Simpson tomorrow to visit old friends of her husband‘s in Hawick. In the Roxburghe coach. We will be gone a week.‖
Ruark raised his brow, unsure if he was more surprised by the obvious respect she paid Rose as mistress of Stonehaven, or that Mary was actually taking a holiday. ―Then I wish you both a safe journey. Ladies . ‖
―My lord . ‖ Mrs. Simpson‘s voice brought him back around. ―A captured butterfly might be beautiful, but is still captured. If you want what you seek most in the world, then open the cage and let the butterfly find you.‖ She smiled. ―I have known Rose since she was a child, my lord. She is special to my heart. To many hearts.‖
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