Real Vampires: A Highland Christmas (The Real Vampires series Book 14)

by Gerry Bartlett

  16

  We had no sooner arrived in the massive hall than trumpets announced the entry of the king and his favorites. James was laughing as he strode into the room, obviously in good spirits. The men trailing him carried jeweled goblets. Their flushed cheeks told me that the celebration and libations had started earlier. I took all that in briefly before I swept down into my deepest curtsy.

  Jeremiah’s hand on my elbow told me when I could safely straighten and take in the pageantry. A footman with a staff pounded the floor until all was quiet.

  “I am pleased to see all of you on this blessed night.” The king put a bejeweled hand over his mouth. “Oh, please don’t report me to the bishop for saying that.”

  The room roared with laughter. Everyone there knew we were going to celebrate Yuletide the way of the old religion with not a few pagan rituals thrown in. A king could do whatever he wished. Yes, he frowned and followed more Puritan ways while in England, but Scotland was where he had been born and he knew he was among friends and many relatives here. Tonight’s marital arrangements would strengthen those ties. He took time to personally greet some of the highly placed people nearby before the staff hit the floor again.

  “Now down to business.” The king smiled. “And a little romance I hope.” He held out his hand. “I see my beloved cousin Fiona is waving for my attention. Dearest Duchess, how good to see you. I believe I have given you a fine match this season. Your eldest too is to be married. What fine matches we are making, aren’t we?”

  Fiona approached carefully, making sure her skirts looked even wider than they had before. Her curtsy couldn’t have been more graceful, but she was so close to the king that his eyes widened when her false stomach almost brushed his knee where he sat on his gilded throne.

  “What’s this?” He stared down at what was surely a very full stomach.

  Had she added another cushion? I swear she must have done so since we’d seen her in the library.

  “Fiona? Have you something to tell me? Must I see you married this very day before we have you birth a squalling babe on the floor of my Great Hall?” The king frowned and looked around the crowd. “Perhaps I should draw my sword. Have you been a victim of some randy fellow’s unwelcome advances?” A few men behind him laughed behind their hands.

  “Sire! You make me blush. Of course not.” Fiona looked at the floor. Though I doubted she could see it past her vast expanse of black velvet and jewels.

  “Your advanced years make you long past blushes, Fiona. Look at me.” The king’s voice was stern. “So this was done with your consent.” He nodded. “Campbell, step up here. How long were you in London?”

  Jeremiah walked through the crowd and bowed. I followed him, even though I probably shouldn’t have. “Two years, sire. I just returned several days ago. I believe you know that.” Jeremiah eased me behind him. He stepped up to stand beside Fiona. He was very solemn, his shoulders stiff. It was obvious that he was not going to look at what seemed to be the burgeoning proof that the woman the king wished him to marry had not been celibate while he’d been in England. Fiona certainly hadn’t denied that she had taken a lover while he was away.

  “Two years. Yes, I do know that. You attended me for much of that time. I thought I was rewarding you for your excellent service to the crown with this marriage.” The king cleared his throat.

  The room was very quiet except for some movement behind me. I didn’t dare look but realized men had approached us. Valdez, of course, never left my back. Others, though, their plaids a flash of color, had carefully pulled closer. The king noticed before he spoke.

  “Out with it, Fiona. Who have you invited into your bed since Argyll died?”

  “May we do this in another room? Where all here are not listening and waiting to hear about my disgrace?” Fiona whispered it.

  “Your disgrace, as you call it, is clear for anyone to see. You could have sent a note, my dear. Obviously you chose to come here and flaunt yourself. Now out with it. Argyll has been dead for three years so clearly this cannot be his brat.”

  “I sent a note, your majesty, which you ignored.” She glanced at his favorites—some were smiling, some staring into their goblets. “Or it was kept from you. No, of course it cannot be Argyll’s babe. I am a woman in her prime. I have been lonely since he died.” Her chin was up. “I mourned as I should but finally took a lover. He is the father of this child and the one I wish to marry, not Jeremiah Campbell.” She glanced at Jeremiah. “Though I think very highly of him, he is like a brother to me. We would not suit for marriage.”

  “Clearly you would not suit him as you are now. I would never ask a man who is heir to a powerful clan to take a woman to wife who might give him a son not of his own making.” The king gripped the arms of that throne which raised him above the crowd. No one in the room dared speak. An angry monarch could be a dangerous thing. One wrong step and a person could end up in a dungeon or without a head. The king glanced at the men around him and all looked blandly innocent.

  “A note, you say. I did not see it. Be assured, I will get to the bottom of that!” The king tapped the sword at his waist. “But here we are, airing your scandal in public.”

  “I am sorry, your majesty.” Fiona bowed low, waiting. Wise move.

  The king finally blew out a breath. “Damn me, but this is not to my liking, woman, much as I love you.”

  Fiona’s head snapped up. “I will remind you, Jamie, that you made me a promise, years ago. When you sent me to a man almost old enough to be my father. I was but fourteen then. Do you remember what you said as I cried in your arms?” Fiona sank to her knees. She had a real flair for the dramatic. Shakespeare would have loved her.

  “Aye. I promised that if you ever married again, you could choose. Much has happened since then. It is no wonder that it slipped my mind.” James finally stood and lifted her to her feet. He embraced her and there were hankies out all over the vast room.

  She pushed back and faced him, defiant. “You can imagine my surprise when you plucked Campbell from the list of eligible men you wished to reward this Yuletide. You chose to bestow me like a gift with no heart or will of my own. What slipped your mind could have cost this fine man and me, the cousin you swear you love like a sister, a lifetime of misery. I was left to wonder where your promise had gone. I was desperate. Especially considering that I had given my heart to another.”

  “Not just your heart, cousin.” The king’s words made Fiona pull out her own handkerchief and dab at her eyes.

  “Dearest majesty, you know I love you dearly and I am very aware of your station. You rule us well and wisely, but we are family. As close as brother and sister, Jamie.” She sniffled. “Or we once were.”

  “Now, now. I did not just pull Campbell’s name from a list, Fiona. I thought you liked him well enough. Campbell’s clan is powerful and he ran to your aid when Argyll needed reminding of your value to me. I thought that might have won your heart and perhaps stirred something in his. What man would not be honored to be tied to our family?” He scanned the crowd and frowned. The king actually looked uncomfortable, gazing around at his friends as if trying to understand women and their tears. There were murmurs of agreement, though no one dared look at the bulk of Fiona’s skirt or her burgeoning breasts about to pop out of her bodice.

  “Jeremiah Campbell is a worthy man. Any woman would be honored to become his wife. Except I say again, I have fallen in love with another, the father of my child. This man is also Scot and from a powerful clan. I believe we will suit. He may not have declared his love for me or asked for my hand, your majesty, but I believe you can bring him to heel.” Fiona smiled. “As a favor to me.”

  Ah yes, she had certainly found the king’s sweet spot, appealing to his power. He straightened. Bring a subject to heel? Let any man try to disobey a royal command.

  “Name him, Fiona. You must be very sure he is the father. No doubt about it. As I said, I cannot and will not force a man to accept another man’
s child as his heir.”

  “I am sure.” Fiona stared straight into the king’s eyes. “I am very aware of how important a man’s duty is to his clan.”

  “Is he here tonight?” The king leaned forward. “You will see how I can wield my sword.”

  “Don’t kill him no matter what he says. I want him. I will make sure he is a good husband and father. Promise me, Jamie.” Fiona laid her hand on the king’s velvet sleeve. The monarch was resplendent in gold velvet with emeralds embroidered into a jacket that must weigh him down above his royal Stuart plaid kilt. But he stood erect, eagerly awaiting the name.

  “Very well. You say he is from a powerful clan? Is he the heir?” She nodded. “I invited him then. He must be here. I ask again. You are sure the babe is his. No doubt about it.” James took her hand.

  “Very sure. I have been with no other since Argyll three years ago.” Fiona dared anyone to say otherwise with her lifted chin and proud bearing. She was definitely carrying royal blood.

  “Out with the name then.” The king rubbed his hands together.

  “Robert MacDonald is the father of my child.” She announced it loud enough for it to echo in the room.

  “No, he can’t—” I slapped a hand over my mouth.

  Fiona stared at me then looked around the vast chamber. “Oh, I assure you he can. Many of the ladies here tonight know Robert MacDonald is quite capable of pleasuring a woman. Why not father a child?” Fans went up in front of more than a dozen rosy cheeks. “There have been silly rumors of a sword wound that damaged him, years ago. Ridiculous. This babe is his and could be no other’s. I have sworn it and I dare you to call me a liar. I love him and I will have him for my husband.” Now there were sighs audible in the crowd.”

  She turned to the king. “If it pleases your majesty.” She dipped an elegant curtsy, though how she managed with that false stomach in front of her was a miracle.

  Apparently footmen and soldiers had been sent running at the first mention of the name. In moments an obviously angry Robert MacDonald was escorted to the dais by two soldiers. They weren’t touching him. It was clear he hadn’t allowed it. He was dressed to show off his perfect body with a dark green velvet jacket over his MacDonald kilt, a matching plaid tossed over his shoulder. His white blond hair and light blue eyes always made him stand out in a crowd. I heard a whisper about what beautiful babies he would make. That quickly hushed when he turned to stare at the woman who had dared speak.

  “Your majesty.” Robert’s bow before the king was everything that was proper. But he looked like he was swallowing ground glass as he took Fiona’s hand and bowed over it. “Your grace.”

  “MacDonald.” The king was thinking. He gestured to the man closest to him, an older man who must be a trusted advisor, and whispered something in his ear. James listened to his answer. Whatever he heard seemed to please him. “Your clan is doing quite well, I believe. You have lands that march near to some of Fiona’s holdings from the dowry she brings with her upon marriage.”

  “I have not looked into her dowry, nor do I need it.” Robert did not smile. “Yes, my clan is prosperous. We also stay prepared for war and are at your command if you need us, your majesty. No one can doubt our loyalty to the crown. We do have enemies.” He glanced over his shoulder at Jeremiah. “There are clashes with our nearest neighbors, Clan Campbell, from time to time. It was my understanding that Fiona was to marry the heir to that clan.”

  “You have made that impossible with your carelessness. Fiona carries your child.” The king watched Robert closely.

  “No, she does not.” Robert could not help but hear the gasps around the room and the ring of swords being pulled from their scabbards.

  “Are you calling the Duchess of Argyll, my beloved cousin, a liar, MacDonald?” James was on his feet. He held out his hands when his friends tried to come down from the dais with him. He stood face to face with Robert. There was other movement as well. Jeremiah had stepped back, out of the way. Hard-faced men stood near him, their hands on their swords. None had worn the enormous broadswords into the celebration but there were small arms aplenty. Some had jeweled hilts, but I didn’t doubt they were razor sharp. Robert also had men behind him, their clan plaids declaring a kinship or so it seemed. Was there to be a battle, here in the Great Hall?

  My heart pounded with fear. I liked Robert and knew several ways this could go bad. I had seen him inhale when he took Fiona’s hand and kissed it. As every vampire could tell just by the smell, he knew Fiona was not pregnant. He could also have read her mind but hadn’t had much time to see what she was thinking. He certainly could look into the eyes of the man in front of him now and see that the king was deadly serious about this marriage. Marry Fiona and make her happy or die. There were plenty of swords eager to lop off Robert’s insolent head. A vampire can’t come back from that.

  Robert could shapeshift and fly out of here in a blink of an eye but that would be the end of Clan MacDonald as they knew it. Witchcraft, demonism, no matter what you called it and no matter how eager the king was to celebrate the old holidays in Scotland, James couldn’t let such a clan stand. He’d make sure the MacDonalds were history. No, not even that. By the time the king was through, no one would even remember that a clan that could turn into flying things had ever existed. Robert couldn’t take that chance.

  “May Fiona and I have a word in private?” Robert said this quietly.

  “No, I believe you have had too many words in private. Look at the proof, man.” The king waved a hand at Fiona’s enormous stomach. “You arrived in London a mere four months ago. Fiona says she was with you, only you, since Argyll died these three years past. Too bad you cannot make the same claim. But she wants you and she will have you. Or no one will. You can make this right with a hand fast this very night. What say you?”

  “I would never wish for the dear duchess to not get what she wants.” Robert turned to her and gave her that charming smile that must have won her in the first place. “If this is what you want, my darling, then take my hand and become my wife.” He pulled the plaid from his shoulder and wrapped it across their joined hands.

  Cheers filled the chamber. At the king’s signal, music started and servants brought out goblets full of fine wine. Fiona was in Robert’s arms getting a kiss that made one woman swoon into her escort’s arms.

  The king tapped Robert on the back. “Enough of that. Tempers are rising. Send your man of business to me tomorrow and I will see that you get generous terms. You will not be sorry, MacDonald.” He turned to Jeremiah. “Nor will you, Campbell. You handled this with all the generosity and good sense I’ve come to expect from you.” He glared at the men who had gathered at Jeremiah’s back. “I will make this right. You may be assured of that.”

  There was a grumble from the huge man nearest me.

  Jeremiah held up one hand. “I do not doubt that, your majesty.” He pulled me up beside him. “We are here to celebrate more than marriage alliances, are we not? Isn’t it almost time for the Yule Log? I am sure you remember Madame St. Clair from London.”

  The king nodded and took my hand. “Of course. Welcome, Madame.” What he thought of Jeremiah bringing his mistress to what might have been a marriage announcement, we’d never know.

  I curtsied again, afraid to speak and say the wrong thing.

  “My dear lady here has never seen our Scottish Yuletide traditions. I’ve told her your Yule log will no doubt be an amazing sight. She is eager to see it.” Jeremiah turned his back on Robert getting congratulations from other clan heirs. The men around us turned their backs as well.

  The king nodded, his eyes taking in the numbers who stood so solemnly regarding him as they made a circle around Jeremiah and me. They supported my man, the king could not mistake the significance of it.

  The king smiled at Jeremiah, his shoulders relaxing. “The Yule log. Indeed, Madame, it is a fine specimen. Enjoy the spectacle. You are quite right, Campbell, time to move on to the celebration.” He
made a gesture and a footman raced away. “The lads are in high gig, up with the sun so eager they were to bring it in. My chief steward did well to find such a fine large log, the biggest of its kind, I’m told.” The king clapped Jeremiah on the back then returned to his throne where a goblet was thrust into his hand. Soon there was another fanfare and a wide aisle opened in the center of the Great Hall.

  Jeremiah squeezed my hand and I knew something dangerous had been avoided, though the burly men around us had not moved. Cheers erupted when a rumbling came from beyond wide double doors that were thrown open. One of the biggest single logs I had ever seen rolled in on narrow pieces of wood. The log was decorated with greenery and a young boy sat astride it, tossing golden coins into the crowd. The elegant men and women scrambled eagerly about to catch them as if they were urchins in the street.

  “That’s MacHugh’s youngest. I’d know that bright red hair anywhere. It’s a great honor to come in riding on the Yule log.” Jeremiah caught a gold coin, kissed it and tucked it between my breasts.

  “Jeremiah!” I knew my cheeks had turned pink.

  “Look around, it is the custom here. It is lucky to win a king’s coin.” He laughed and pointed to a matron who was helping a handsome man stuff coins down her bodice. “That’s Lady MacMartin. I swear she brings her own coins each year and stands next to a fine-looking man just so she can have a hand down her dress.”

  “No!” Then I saw the lady toss a coin at the man when he had turned away. I laughed. “Who are the other boys?” I pointed at one very solemn lad walking next to the log as it rolled slowly along guided by more than a dozen footmen. The boy held a large bowl and looked terrified he would drop it. “What is that one carrying?”