Amanda Scott (47 page)

“Have faith,” he said again, adding, “and put this on.”
He slipped off his jack-of-plate and wrapped it around her. “It was too heavy to put on you before, but it may help keep you warm now.”

Just being so close to him was warming her as always, but she did not disdain the heavy leather garment still warm with his body heat.

The ride back to Roslin seemed to take no time at all, but by the time they arrived, despite his warmth and the jack, she was shivering and her teeth chattered.

The courtyard teemed with men and horses. Michael and Sir Edward had returned, and came to meet them. Looking at Hugo, Michael raised his eyebrows.

“He’s dead,” Hugo said.

Michael nodded, saying, “His men surrendered not long after you left. They told us he’d gone, taking only Fin Wylie with him, but we searched Edgelaw from hoardings to dungeon to make sure he wasn’t there.” Eyeing Sorcha’s wet clothing, he added, “You can tell us your tale later.”

Nodding, Hugo dismounted and lifted her down. “I’ll carry you in,” he said as a lad ran up to take Black Thunder.

She did not argue. The last thing she wanted to do was walk across the courtyard in Isobel’s wet kirtle and his jack-of-plate. But when he carried her past the great hall, she said, “I want to see Adela, sir. I must know she is safe.”

“We’ll find out soon enough,” he said. “You are not going anywhere until you are warm and dry again.”

On the next level, he carried her to her bedchamber, having sent a passing gillie running to find Kenna. Inside the chilly room, he put Sorcha down and said, “Turn around, and I’ll undo your lacing. Have you a cloak here
that you can wrap around you till Kenna gets here, or do you want to get into the bed?”

“Sakes,” she exclaimed, looking over her shoulder at him. “Are you going to stay here whilst I undress?”

“I am not letting you out of my sight again until we settle things, Skelpie.”

“So you’re going to watch me?”

He grinned. “I’ll turn my back, but that is all. Now, cloak or bed?”

“Cloak,” she said, unwilling to get naked into bed with him in the room. “You will find it in yon kist by the door.”

He finished unlacing her, found the cloak, and handed it to her.

“Turn around,” she said firmly.

Chuckling, he obeyed her. But when Kenna came in moments later, Sorcha was not surprised that he still refused to leave.

“Rub her dry with towels,” he said. “Then put her in the warmest dress you can find. And when you leave, take her cloak and dry it by the kitchen fire.”

“Aye, sir,” Kenna said, eyeing him warily.

Sorcha was soon warm again, and in a silk kirtle and wool surcoat, with her still-damp hair bound into a net and covered with a silk veil, she felt ready to face whatever lay ahead.

Kenna told them they would find Adela in a chamber near Isobel’s, and they went together to see how she did. When they entered, Sorcha’s gaze fell instantly on her sister in the high bed against the opposite wall. To her relief, Adela was awake and clearly much improved.

“Thank heaven,” Sorcha exclaimed, rushing to her. “I was so afraid for you!”

“And I for you,” Adela said, reaching out to grasp her hand. “He is a dangerous man, dearest, and you are too quick to stir anger.”

“He will not harm anyone again,” Sorcha said. “But why did you leap between them as you did?”

“Faith, I don’t know,” Adela replied. “I never seem to know anymore
what
I may say or do, or even what I may think! But I could not let Hugo kill him.”

“As you see, I’ve brought him,” Sorcha said before she could lose her resolve.

Adela smiled at Hugo, but then she looked back at Sorcha and shook her head. “I know you believe I fell in love with him, dearest, but—”

“You didn’t deny it earlier,” Sorcha reminded her.

“Oh, but I did, many times,” Adela said.

“Not today.”

“No, not today. But until I arrived here at Roslin, I did not feel safe. Indeed, I had not felt safe for…” A shadow crossed her face, and she drew a long breath before she said, “But I do not want to talk about that. All I really heard when you said that was that Hugo would stand by me. But then I learned that Ar—”

“But how can you
not
want to marry him?” Sorcha demanded.

Adela smiled. “Because I do not love him, or he me. Indeed, dearest, I think you must know who Hugo loves. Would you truly sacrifice that love for me?”

Sorcha’s throat suddenly ached, and she turned to Hugo. He stood right behind her, his expression watchful and wary as if he were uncertain of what she might say. She bit her lip, and a tear trickled down her cheek.

When he opened his arms, she walked into them. But
even as he held her, she turned to Adela. “I would have done it, you know. But what will
you
do? You cannot happily stay at Chalamine if Father weds Lady Clendenen.”

“Ardelve is here,” Adela said simply, and her smile widened.

“Do you mean he still wants you?” Sorcha asked bluntly.

“Aye, and I want him more than ever after this nightmare. Don’t you see, dearest? He is all that is kind, and he dotes on me whilst requiring naught in return but my affection and my ability to run a household. He is not too old to father children, either. But more than that, he is the kindest man I have ever known.”

“Sakes, I believe you really care for him!”

“I do, and I have Hugo to thank for bringing him to me.”

“Nay, lass, ’twas your father who summoned him,” Hugo said. “He sent a messenger last night. But ’twas Ardelve himself who came to Edinburgh, and I believe he came because he heard that your abductors had brought you here.”

“He came with his grace’s flotilla,” Sorcha reminded him.

“Aye, but he was never strong for Donald. Rather, he was one who wanted Ranald to seize the Lordship. When I put it to Macleod, he agreed to send to Edinburgh for him. So you’ll take him, my lady?” he asked Adela.

“Aye, sir, and happily,” she said. “I wish you happy, too.”

“I mean to be,” he said, smiling tenderly at Sorcha. Then, briskly, he said, “But first, I wager, there will be all manner of fuss and ado. Michael wants to discuss all that has happened, as does my father. And likely Isabella will
be planning weddings for each of us, or one for all. There is also your father, with all his superstitions to satisfy. I fear we may see no end to the business!”

Sorcha winced. Much as she wanted to marry him, the way he described the likely consequences of telling everyone else sounded daunting to say the least.

He was watching her, his mood apparently resigned. “I suppose we had better go downstairs right now and tell them to get on with it,” he said.

She nodded, going with him, uncertain about facing them all but unwilling to discuss her feelings in Adela’s presence or on the stairway.

At the entrance to the hall, he stopped and turned to her. “I’m hoping you do want to marry me, sweetheart, but it’s occurred to me that I’ve not yet asked you.”

“You know I do,” she said, smiling.

“Then will you trust me?” His eyes twinkled. “You delight in contradicting me, but if you do so this time, we’re sped.”

When she nodded, he kissed her quickly, and they went to find the others.

They were in the solar, all of them. Sir Edward and the countess were playing chess. Michael and Isobel sat together near the window with tiny William Robert Sinclair in his cradle beside her, while Sidony sat on a pillow next to the cradle tickling the baby’s chin. Ardelve and Macleod cast dice on a nearby table.

Hugo left the door open and stopped just inside with an arm around Sorcha.

When everyone looked up, he said, “I’ve come to tell you that, the lady Sorcha having agreed, we hereby declare ourselves married.”

Clamor broke out but stilled at once when he raised a hand to silence it.

Then he said, “We are leaving now for Hawthornden, and we ask you to grant us three days alone there before you begin your bride visits.”

Isobel said, “But you’ll need clothes, Sorcha. Tell Kenna to—”

“Sakes, she won’t need any for at least three days,” Hugo said. “Someone can bring them then.” And with that, he whisked the astonished, laughing Sorcha out of the solar and shut the door on the uproar.

“How could you do that?” she demanded. “Marriage by declaration is for times when no priest or chaplain is at hand, for emergencies!”

“Aye,” Hugo said, pulling her into his arms. “And if ever there was an emergency, Skelpie, this is it.”

T
hey reached Hawthornden as darkness was falling, so Sorcha gained no real view of the landscape thereabouts, or of the castle itself for that matter, except as a hulking mass of stone atop its high crag. But she did not care. Her only thoughts were for Hugo.

When they entered the hall, Hugo ordered supper for them and told the gillie to bring claret at once. “I would toast my bride,” he said.

As the lad ran to do his bidding, Sorcha said, laughing, “Sakes, sir, you’ve dismayed him. Indeed, you’ve dismayed me. Are we truly married?”

“Aye, sweetheart, so you will have to obey me now,” he said as he guided her to a chair at the high table.

Sitting, she said, “I do not recall pronouncing any such vow, sir.”

He chuckled. “Then I shall have to persuade you.”

“How?” she asked.

His expression sobered, and he sat down beside her.
“What do you know about the duties and pleasures of marriage?” he asked.

“Only that I shall be your wife and have duties to look after servants and such,” she admitted. “But I know that Isobel loves being married to Michael, and I certainly expect to enjoy being married to you. I want to bear your children, sir. You will teach me what I need to know, won’t you?”

“Aye, lass, I’ll teach you; I’ll teach you all I know,” he said, smiling again.

“Do you know so much, then?”

His eyes twinkled, but he said only, “Ah, here’s our wine now.” Taking the jug from the gillie, he poured wine into her goblet and handed it to her.

She sipped, watching him pour his own and thinking that Adela was crazy to prefer Ardelve. That thought stirred another, and putting down her goblet, she exclaimed, “We never told Adela that Waldron is dead! We should have, Hugo. She would feel much safer, knowing.”

“Nay, lass, we’ll let Ardelve do that,” he said. “She will need him when she learns that Waldron is gone. It was not to save me that she flung herself between us. Nor was he thinking of me when he lowered his guard to push her away.”

“But she cannot have loved him!”

“I don’t know what she felt for him,” Hugo said. “But it was strong enough to fling her into the path of a sword that would have sped him to hell. Passion like that does not just vanish. It will take time for her to get over what happened to her. Drink your wine now. I’m not sure I want to wait for supper.”

They did but hurried through it. He kept looking at her,
and whenever he did, it was as if he kissed her. Heat surged through her.

His voice was husky when he said, “Come upstairs now, sweetheart.”

She felt suddenly shy. “Do you know, sir, had anyone told me I’d marry a man I had known only six days, I’d never have believed it.”

He shook his head, “Women often marry men they have never seen before, men they know nothing about, just because their fathers arrange it for them.”

“Aye, well, I knew I did not want that,” Sorcha said. “My sister Cristina married at Father’s command, and Hector did not even want her. I would have run away had Father tried to do that to me.”

“You did run away,” he reminded her, adding as he opened a door, “This is my bedchamber.”

Inside, someone had lit cressets and a fire on the hearth, and a ewer of hot water waited on the washstand. But it was the bed that drew Sorcha’s attention. It was an ordinary bed, but it was Hugo’s, and he meant to share it with her.

She trembled, wondering if she would know what to do, wondering if she would please him, if she would like marriage as much as she hoped to like it.

He stood before her, his hands lightly on her shoulders. “Art willing, sweetheart? I want you to enjoy coupling with me.”

“Aye, sir,” she said. But her palms felt damp. “Are you really going to take away my clothes for three whole days?”

“Not if you don’t want me to,” he said, pulling her closer to kiss her. “I did not tell Isobel, but my sister Kate
left dresses here that I’m sure will fit you. You’ll like Kate, I think, and Meg, come to that. I don’t know about Eliza. She is as temperamental as you are, and she is older than I am.”

“Aged and decrepit then,” she said.

“Ah, lassie, I cannot wait any longer,” he said, pulling her to him.

His hands moved over her body as his lips captured hers, and she responded to him with an abandon that astonished her. She had no more qualms and no inhibitions. She wanted to learn how to please him, and he clearly was willing to take his time to please her and show her how to enjoy this intriguing new pastime.

He had the wool surcoat off her and on the floor in a trice, and the kirtle followed swiftly, falling in a pool of silk at her feet. But when she stood before him in her shift, he said suddenly, “You’ll grow cold again, lass. Let’s get you into bed.”