A Rip in the Veil (The Graham Saga)

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A Rip in the Veil (The Graham Saga) Page 19

by Belfrage, Anna


  “Mmm?” Matthew threw her a quick look.

  “Why do we need to get married?”

  He came to a standstill. “Don’t you want to?”

  “That’s not what I meant.” She wasn’t sure she did, things were happening at a pace that frightened her. “What I meant was, how come you feel you can baptise me just like that and wham! I’m no longer a heathen, but that a marriage has to be conducted formally. Why can’t you and I just promise we’ll be together?”

  Matthew gave her a serious look. “A marriage is a legal contract, it must be properly registered. Unless it’s legal, any child of our union would be branded a bastard.”

  “What’s the big deal? A child is still a child.”

  “A bastard has no rights,” Matthew said harshly, his eyes tightening as he studied her face. “You don’t want to, do you?”

  Alex sighed and looked away. “I’m scared, things are spinning way too fast. Look at me,” she indicated her skirts. “This isn’t me, not yet. I’m a girl from another time where being married or not isn’t really that important, you know?”

  Matthew tweaked her cheek and smiled. “But here and now it is important – very important. So will you have me declare myself to you here in public, or will you come with me quietly?”

  Alex looked around at all the people. “Quietly, but I’m still scared.”

  “Of course you are,” Matthew laughed, “but I promise to be gentle with you.”

  It was a relief to escape off the street, Matthew’s hand firm on her waist as he guided her towards a door above which swung a wooden sign: Simon Melville, lawyer.

  “Simon? Is that the Simon who’s married to your sister?”

  Matthew nodded and opened the door, almost lifting her across the threshold. The office was very dark – dark and dusty, with huge leather clad tomes covering shelf after shelf in a creaking bookcase.

  “Simon?” Someone moved in the inner corner. “Simon? It’s me, Matthew.” The shape picked up speed, and Alex backed away as a small but very massive man threw his arms around Matthew, issuing a string of enthusiastic noises, among which Alex could make out idiot, wee fool, daftie and clumsy dolt, the last when Matthew trod on Simon’s foot.

  “We heard you were dead,” Simon said once he’d calmed down. “But it seems those reports were somewhat exaggerated. Poor Luke will be heartbroken at seeing you alive and well.” He laughed, a staccato sound that made Alex recall summer evening spent playing at war with her Swedish cousins, all of them imitating machineguns. Simon grew sombre and punched Matthew on the arm. “What were you thinking? To run off like that…it may be it’s dangerous for you to return.”

  “Not if I’m officially dead.”

  “Ah, but officially you’re not. Not until it has been proved it was you they hanged. And there was no body to collect or bury when we got to the tree. Just a cut rope.” Simon eyed Matthew and stood on tiptoe to examine his throat. “Well, it wasn’t you at any rate, was it?”

  “Nay, it wasn’t me.” Matthew took Simon by the shoulder and turned him in Alex’s direction. “This is Alexandra Lind – my soon to be Swedish wife.”

  “Hi,” Alex said, giving Simon a sketchy little wave.

  “Well, knock me dead with a feather.” Simon sat down with a thump.

  Alex wasn’t sure whether to take Simon’s reaction as approval or apprehension, and she remained standing where she was, feeling very much like an object on display as Simon gawked at her.

  Matthew looked amused. “She doesn’t bite, and she does speak English.”

  Simon tilted his head to one side, a mischievous glint in his light blue eyes.

  “She’s right bonny, Matthew. What would such a pretty lass want with a lout like you?”

  “Sex appeal,” Alex said, which left both men nonplussed, even if the gratified expression that flew over Matthew’s face showed he could work that one out.

  “Sex what?” Simon asked.

  “Never mind,” Alex grabbed Simon’s hand in hers and gave it a firm shake. “Pleased to meet you.”

  Simon retook his hand, giving her a surprised look. “Your servant, ma’am,” he said, standing up to give her a bow.

  Curtsey, she told herself, that’s what you’re supposed to do. Not pump a strange man’s hand up and down, just curtsey and flutter your eyes. She nearly laughed, feeling like the proverbial bull in the china shop.

  Matthew gave Simon an abbreviated, and entirely false, description of how Alex and he had met, involving highwaymen, a helpless Swedish lass and a dead father.

  Simon clucked and shook his head, apologising for the brutal treatment the poor lass had received at the hands of his countrymen, and generally made an effort to look as if he believed a tale he obviously found incredible. Well, Alex thought, the truth would be even more unbelievable, but it was evident that Matthew and she had to work on their story before spreading it to a larger audience.

  “So you’re marrying the lass out of civic duty, are you? Not wanting to leave her unprotected in the world,” Simon summarised once Matthew was done. He handed Alex a mug of cider, poured some for Matthew and himself.

  “If that’s his reason, I’ll brain him before I marry him,” Alex said, making Simon choke on his drink. She waited until he had stopped coughing before smiling sweetly and continuing. “I can take care of myself, thank you very much.”

  “Ah,” Simon smiled. “So then why? Is there any particular reason for this haste?”

  Alex shrugged. “As for him, you’ll have to ask him, not me. As for me, well…” She grinned at Simon. “…I fear I’ve taken advantage of the poor man.”

  Simon laughed for so long and so hard that Matthew ended up whacking him between the shoulders, all the while glaring at Alex.

  “I have errands to run,” he said. “Will you promise to sit here and wait for me?”

  Alex nodded but put a hand on his sleeve as he stood to leave. “If you promise to be careful – very careful.”

  He ruffled her hair and assured her he would.

  *

  Two hours later he was back, safe and sound. Alex’s mouth dropped open at the sight of this clean-shaven, well-dressed stranger. Her Matthew? Wow… He smiled when she ran the back of her hand down his face, his hand closing over hers.

  “Have you got the contract ready?” he asked. Simon nodded and extended the document for Matthew to read.

  “I heard you’ve arranged for a room down at the inn,” Simon said.

  “Mmhm?” Matthew sounded disinterested.

  “In your own name.”

  Matthew straightened up. “Don’t you think I should?”

  “I think that if you sleep there tonight, you’ll not see the morning.” Simon sounded matter-of-fact.

  “Ah.” Matthew exchanged a long look with Simon. “That way, is it?”

  Simon hitched his shoulders. “Even shites like Luke have friends. And there’s a few that would want to see him as master of Hillview.”

  “Hillview is mine,” Matthew said, his voice very cold. “He’s taken my wife, he took my freedom, but damned if he’ll take my home.”

  Simon regarded him evenly. “You need a pregnant wife. It’s one thing to plan the murder of a convicted royalist, it’s quite another to consider murdering an innocent child.” Simon turned a speculative eye on Alex. “I wouldn’t go back until she’s showing.”

  Alex sat down, closed her eyes and counted very slowly to a hundred. Then she opened her eyes and looked straight into Matthew’s bright hazel ones.

  “It’ll be alright.”

  “Yes, you’ll be dead, but fortunately the people who have no compunction in running you through, will stay their hand when it comes to your unborn child. So what am I worrying about? Let’s just get married and work ourselves into a right sweat while we start that baby, hey?” With a jolt, she realised that they might already have started a baby, and in his eyes she saw that he was thinking the same thing. I hope not, she thought fiercely, I h
ope yes, she thought just as fiercely, and put her fingers to his lips in a soft caress.

  “We don’t have to go back, not just yet.”

  Matthew shook his head. “I do, Alex. I have tenants to care for, a manor to run, and my heart aches for the feel of my land under my feet.”

  “But what about Luke? What if he kills you?”

  “He won’t, and at Hillview my people will keep me safe.” He got back off his knees and helped her up to stand. “Will you still…” He indicated the unsigned document with his head, and his heart stood in his eyes, making her gut twist in response.

  “I’ve burnt all my ships, remember? All of them but one; you.”

  He nodded and took her hand.

  “Just so you know,” she said once she’d signed the document, “I’ll personally castrate you if you get yourself killed – especially by that unsavoury brother of yours.”

  Simon laughed at that. “Now that’s a threat to take seriously, my man, so you’d better keep yourself safe.”

  *

  The minister was a tall, austere man that eyed Alex with some misgiving.

  “What happened to your hair?” he asked, leaning over to study her.

  “The fever,” Matthew said, “it was the healer over at Lanark, who said it was best to cut it off.”

  “Hmm,” Minister Crombie voiced. “Well, you look to be in good health now.” Alex nodded that she was. “And you’re not from here?”

  Alex shook her head, letting Matthew do the talking. Much better story this time, about a Swedish lass left orphaned in the care of some distant relatives of Matthew, and him coming to take her to Edinburgh to see her on board a ship back to Sweden, but well, the Minister would understand that sometimes…

  The Minister listened with interest, and then smiled, exposing a rather unhealthy set of yellow teeth.

  “Matthew Graham, I’ve known you all your life, and you’re a most incompetent liar – you always were. Somehow I don’t think people escape from prison merely to chaperone an unwed lass to a ship.” He shook his head and gave Matthew an appraising look. “It was wrong what was done to you three years back. We all knew you were no royalist, but those were turbulent times, and men will at times be more feared for their own skin than their immortal soul. I think you’ll find that there are many that will want to atone, and Luke may find things a wee bit uncomfortable should he do something rash.” He gnawed at his lip and let his eyes wander up and down Matthew. “Now about the lass,” he continued, a peremptory hand stopping Matthew from interrupting, “the important thing is that you found her, not how.” He turned and smiled down at Alex. “Do you wish to wed this man, lass?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well then, we’d best get on with it.”

  “I didn’t like the ‘obey’ part,” Alex grumbled as they walked back to Simon’s office. “I mean the love and to hold and all that, fine. But to obey? It makes me feel like a dog.” Matthew didn’t reply, he just grabbed her hand and began to run as the rain came pelting down.

  “I’m just saying,” Alex went on once they were back inside, “that I might have a bit of a problem with the obey thing. No, wait, I have a huge problem with the obey thing. Why should I obey you?” She glared down at her feet, now just as dirty as they’d been before she washed them.

  “Because I’m your husband,” Matthew explained with exaggerated patience. “And you’re but a mindless wife.” If it hadn’t been for the light in his eyes indicating that he was, at least to some extent, teasing, she’d have kicked him.

  “Hmph,” Alex said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’d like to see you make me.”

  “Oh, don’t tempt me,” Matthew grinned, “because I’m sure I could make you obey if I wanted to.”

  “We’ll see about that, okay?”

  *

  “So, Mrs Graham,” Matthew said next morning, planting a kiss on Alex’s cheek, “shall we see then?”

  “See what?” Alex yawned. It had been a comfort to sleep indoors instead of out in the rain, but Simon’s cramped office was not the ideal environment for wedding night activities, resulting in Alex sleeping on the narrow but padded bench while Matthew stretched out on the floor.

  “If you’ll obey.” He twisted her so she ended up thrown facedown over the bench, a firm hold on her nape keeping her still as he ruckled the shift up her legs.

  “Oaf,” she laughed. “Horrible wife beater,” she added when he slapped her playfully on her rump. “Unngh,” she said when he muffled her mouth with his hand, the other slipping under her to hold her still when he entered her.

  “Do you think,” he murmured against her neck, “do you think there’s someone there?” His hand slid down her belly in a gentle caressing motion.

  “I don’t know,” she said, all of her melting at the tone of his voice. She turned in his arms, guided him back inside and for a long time they moved slowly and together. Very slowly, long fluid movements that impaled her on him, made her shudder and hold on to him, her teeth sunk into his shoulder.

  “I think there is,” he said, brushing a damp lock off her face. “I think we made it already that first time.”

  She let her finger run across his brows. “I hope he has your eyes,” she whispered.

  “I hope she has your mouth,” he whispered back.

  Chapter 19

  Simon was crowing when he came through the door to his office, bringing with him a basket from which emanated the smell of warm bread. He kept his back turned as Alex and Matthew scrambled into their clothes, all the while humming under his breath.

  “Someone tried to set the inn on fire,” he informed them once they were decent. “And the innkeeper is right sore about it. Well, he would be.” He raised innocent blue eyes to Matthew’s. “Now who would do a thing like that?”

  “Simon!” Matthew sounded very displeased. “You haven’t!”

  “Me?” Simon shook his head. “How can you possibly think that I would?” He bent forward in a conspiratorial gesture. “Nay, word is out that a certain Luke Graham did, in view of him not finding his dear brother where he had hoped to, stark naked in his marriage bed.”

  “He did?” Alex said, and both men turned to give her an exasperated look.

  “Aye, of course he did,” Matthew sighed, a very green eye on his humming brother-in-law. “Really, Simon, you shouldn’t have.”

  “You did it?” Alex said, looking at Simon, who beamed back.

  “At least it will force Luke to keep low to the ground for some time,” Simon said in a satisfied tone.

  Several hours later, Alex stood beside Simon, studying a huge beast.

  “Are you sure it’s a horse?” she said. “It looks like an elephant.”

  Simon laughed. “No trunk. It’s a horse.”

  Matthew was glowing when he came back to them. “Look at him! Isn’t he magnificent?”

  “Hmm.” She supposed it was good looking for a horse, grey and with enormous hooves. Nice hair though, the mane fluttering in the wind.

  “Uncut,” Matthew said to Simon. “I hope he isn’t too tempered. That might explain the price.”

  “Bad tempered?” Alex backed away, certain that the horse was eyeing her with the express intent of sinking those big yellow teeth into some part of her anatomy.

  “He’ll easily carry two,” Matthew went on, “and with those legs he’ll have a mighty stride.”

  Simon nodded his agreement, and cocked his head in the direction of Alex.

  “Don’t you have horses in Sweden?”

  Alex gave him a wavering smile. “Of course we do. But they’re much smaller.” She went back to studying the stallion; she’d need a ladder to get on, not that she particularly wanted to.

  It was far more comfortable than she’d expected, a rocking motion that made her drowsy where she sat behind Matthew, her arms around his waist. She leaned her cheek against his back and rubbed affectionately, hearing a contented rumble in response.

  “Will they
think me strange?” she said, trying to keep the twinge of unease from her voice. He just nodded, and she tightened her hold round his waist. “Will they like me, do you think?”

  “I like you.”

  She could hear the smile in his voice.

  “I sincerely hope so, but that wasn’t what I asked, was it?”

  “Nay. Simon liked you, didn’t he?”

  “I liked him.” Alex laughed under her breath. How someone could be so…so…spherical was beyond her.

  “Joan will surely like you as well,” Matthew said, and she felt a slight tension drain away. She was nervous about meeting his sister. “And as to the rest,” he shrugged, “I think they will. Not that they’ll clasp you to their bosom right away, but once they get to know you, of course they will.”

  “Where’d you get the money?” She was only mildly curious, but wanted the distraction of hearing his voice. For the last half-hour or so, Matthew had ridden in silence, his eyes drinking in the landscape around him in a way that made her think of thirsting men finding a well.

  With every plodding step he was getting closer to his place, his roots, and inside her grew a sensation of sadness tinged with jealousy, because she’d never see her home again. All she had in the world was him, and the thought undressed her, leaving her naked in a strange and frightening place. What would happen to her if one day he woke up and found he no longer loved or even liked her?

  She shifted; what had begun as an agreeable experience was now getting a bit old. The insides of her thighs were beginning to chafe, and she was certain that she’d never be able to pull her legs together again, sitting splayed as she did on the huge roan back. He hadn’t replied, and she repeated her question.

  “I sold the bracelet.”

  She almost fell off the horse, and instinctively dug her heels into its sides making it squeal and buck, close to a ton of irritated horseflesh.

  “You’re tickling him!” Matthew barked. “Let up on your heels.”

  “Easy for you to say! You’ve got stirrups!”

  In the end she slid off, landed with a thud, and sat glaring up at him.

 

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