Dangerous Pride (35 page)

The dowager’s words were meant to soothe Catriona’s fears, but the reminder of the animosity most of the clan felt towards her father stung her deeply.  “It’s just that I wish Lachlan was here to offer a proper greeting,” she confided to the older woman.  “I am terrified that I am going to do something wrong in his absence, and that he will be ashamed of me.”

“You’ll worry yerself sick if you aren’t careful,” the dowager replied, her tone gentling as she motioned for Catriona to seat herself in one of the trestle chairs.  “We’ve survived more important visitors than the Duke of Marlborough, and that is a fact.  He cares not what is happening here in Scotland, and the people here know it well.  We are just a convenient stop while he is marshaling the men and resources to fight the next battle that will bring him more fame and glory.”

The dowager lowered her voice, motioning for Catriona to come closer.  “Lachlan has never forgiven William of Orange for the massacre at Glencoe.  Truth be told, I don’t doubt that he holds Queen Anne at fault for her brother’s sins.  It’s a blessing indeed that Lachlan isn’t here.  It would be difficult for him to welcome the Duke into his home, but the rules of hospitality would demand nothing less.”

Catriona had sat at the table, absorbed in her thoughts, for a few minutes longer as the dowager instructed Mrs. Bannerman on which rooms were to be aired and readied for the guests. With a sigh of resignation, she pushed herself to her feet, departing for the kitchens at a brisk pace.  Resolving not to embarrass either her husband or her mother-by-marriage by failing to fulfill her responsibilities, she had gathered the kitchen staff together, issuing instructions at a rapid pace.  Several of Lachlan’s men were sent out to hunt fresh game for the banquet that would be held as soon as their guests arrived. In little time, with the combined efforts of the two women, every pair of hands was occupied with the task of preparing Tolquhon to receive the Queen’s representative, and their laird’s father-by-marriage.

The next afternoon, as the castle gleamed, the smell of fresh herbs, rushes and beeswax polish filling the air, Catriona felt content that their work had been well done.  As soon as the dowager had realized that Catriona was capable of meeting the challenge of the Duke’s visit, she had quietly stepped back from organizing the staff’s activities, gently turning the leadership back to the lady of the keep.  This subtle vote of confidence had given Catriona the strength she needed to swallow her fears about meeting her father and the Duke, and to focus on the matters at hand.

To Catriona’s delight, the staff had been good-natured about the sudden workload, excited at the prospect of seeing the powerful, legendary Duke.  Chambers had been aired, breads and pastries had been baked, and the game the men had hunted had been roasted to perfection.  The castle was in readiness, though Catriona’s satisfaction in the accomplishment was dimmed by her fears.  She had never before been presented to a man with the status the Duke enjoyed, and she was desperately afraid that she would do something to embarrass herself or her husband. 
If only Lachlan were here
, she thought for the thousandth time that day. 
He would know what to do.  He would give me the strength I need to face these men.

Dismissing these thoughts as foolish – and unworthy of the Lady of Tolquhon Castle – Catriona turned her attention to the final preparations in the great hall.  Rumors abounded about the Duke’s particular, demanding nature.  Given the time they’d had to prepare for the visit, Catriona felt that no one could reasonably fault their readiness.  Still, she was unwilling to take any chances, particularly with the feast they would offer the Duke upon his arrival.  Several additional tables and chairs had been brought into the great hall from other parts of the castle to accommodate the numerous guests they expected.

As soon as the Duke was seated, the serving staff would bring in trays of food to set atop the trestle tables.  The kitchen staff had been working through the night, under Mairi’s close supervision, and Catriona prayed there would be enough food to satisfy their guests.  The Duke was said to travel with a large entourage, among them his personal guard, members of the royal court, and his extensive staff, including cooks, clerks, secretaries and advisors.  The fact that they didn’t know how long the Duke would deign to stay at Tolquhon further complicated matters.  A thorough check of the castle’s stores had shown that they could likely entertain their guests for several days before their supplies were diminished significantly, but if the Duke chose to stay longer than that, they would be forced to call upon their clansmen for assistance in feeding and keeping the visitors.

After showing the lads where to place the final tables, Catriona had turned to see Annella entering the great hall.  Dressed in a gown she had been given by the dowager, who had claimed it no longer fit her, Annella looked truly becoming.  Her light grey eyes were sparkling, enhanced by the deep cobalt tones of the gown.  The dress had been altered in the bodice and the waist, but fortunately Annella and the dowager were of a similar height.  Though it was perhaps a few years out of fashion, Catriona knew it was the finest gown Annella had ever worn, with its full silk skirt, rich with embroidery.  The bodice was suitably modest, but cut low enough to display the necklace the dowager had loaned the maid, who in truth had become more friend than servant in the brief time she had called Tolquhon home.

“You look absolutely lovely, Annie,” Catriona said honestly, delighting in her friend’s air of confidence.  “I have little doubt you will steal the eye of every man here this evening.”

“Hardly!” she replied with a laugh, her eyes flashing mischievously, “but I do feel a wee bit like a princess.  The dowager can work miracles with a needle an’ thread.  Did ye ken  she e’en had her own maid help me with my hair?” she asked, her hand self-consciously reaching to touch the dark locks that had been so artfully arranged in a thick coil atop her head.  “Ye’ve been blessed with a verra generous mother, Catriona, an’ one who is certainly keen aboot ye.  Before I came down, I overheard her tellin’ Rory how pleased she is with ye.”

Catriona’s pride was bolstered by the compliment, but she was more intrigued by what her friend hadn’t said.  “Were you spending time with Rory then?  I’ve noticed the two of you have grown rather friendly in the past while.”

The snort of indignation that flew from Annella’s pursed lips was in sharp contrast to her ladylike appearance.  “Yer daft if ye think that I have been keepin’ company with that man!” she cried indignantly, her features suddenly flushed.  “He just happened to bring a message tae the dowager while I was attendin’ her in the solar, ‘tis all.”

Surprised by Annella’s discomfort, Catriona let the subject drop, though she had little doubt there was much more going on than her friend was willing to admit.  “I think everything is about as ready as we can make it, Annie,” she replied instead, deftly changing the subject.  “Surely the waiting will be the hardest part.  I hope the Duke arrives soon, so that we can get this all over with.  I do no’ ken which I fear more – meeting him, or facing my da.  Neither prospect is particularly appealing.”

“Ye do no’ need tae fear aught from Seafield, Catriona.  He’s a cold man, but he does no’ hold ye responsible for Elizabeth’s death any longer.  He saw the foolishness of that reasoning some time ago.  He was just too proud tae admit it.  I’ll no’ lie tae ye – he’s displeased ye left the keep, and caused him tae lose face with his people.  But now that ye’ve married well, and tae his likin’, I think he’ll no’ trouble ye.”

“I suppose I should just be grateful there is naught he can do to hurt me anymore,” Catriona admitted quietly.  Rubbing her hands on the folds of her dress, she turned for the door.  “We’ve done all we can here.  Let’s take our leave of this place and go to Lachlan’s study.  I could do with some peace and quiet before the Duke makes his appearance.”

The two women settled themselves in front of the chessboard, anxious for any distraction to help pass the time.  After three halfhearted matches, and two glasses of watered wine, a knock at the door pulled Catriona’s wandering thoughts back to earth.  Rory poked his head through the door, nodding warmly at Annella before turning his gaze back to Catriona.  “It’s time, my lady,” he said.  “We posted men on the rampart tae watch for the Duke’s approach, an’ they have just spotted his party enterin’ the valley.  He should reach the keep in but a few minutes.”

Drawing herself to her full height, Catriona took a deep, steadying breath, hoping that the unease and anxiety she felt would not be apparent to everyone around her.  “Well, then, let’s greet this Duke of ours, and show him that Clan Forbes will offer a most hospitable welcome, no matter what the circumstances,” she vowed, making her way purposefully to the door.

“Indeed, my lady,” Rory said as he offered her his arm, with a shrug of apology to Annella, who trailed behind them.  “He will no’ ken what hit him.”

###

The Duke of Marlborough arrived with all the pomp and circumstance Catriona had expected.  As she stood at the entrance to the inner bailey, surrounded by the dowager, Rory, Quinton, Annella and a bevy of curious servants, she felt her knees go weak at the sight of the Duke’s extensive entourage.  Silently, she cursed herself for not having had the presence of mind to send for Iain to be at her side.  Facing her father and the Duke would be difficult enough as it was.  Another strong ally would have been a most welcome addition to the scene that unfolded, unbidden, before her eyes.

The Duke rode at the center of a large group of soldiers, all of whom rode warhorses carrying pennants which proudly displayed the royal standard.  Silently, her lips moved as she counted, gauging the number of men in the Duke’s party.  She expelled out a quiet sigh of relief when she realized their stores would not be unduly taxed.  Riding tall and proud on his huge charcoal destrier, the Duke was a commanding presence in his finery.  In contrast, her father – stooped and brooding – looked entirely miserable as he rode at the Duke’s side.

As they entered the bailey, the attendants rode to the side as the Duke and the Earl of Seafield made their way to the welcoming party.  With a broad grin, the Duke drew his horse to a halt before Catriona.  Stepping forward, she made a deep curtsy before raising her eyes to meet his amused gaze.  “Welcome to Tolquhon, my lord,” she said, her voice firm and strong despite the fear that was coursed through her body.  “I am Catriona Forbes, lady of the keep.”  Before she could lose her courage, she quickly introduced the Dowager and Rory.

Catriona kept her eyes fixed firmly on the Duke, afraid even a sideways glance at her father would destroy what little confidence she had been able to muster.  “I am sorry my husband is no’ here to greet you himself, my lord, but he is seeing to business in Aberdeen.  We were no’ able to get word to him in time for yer arrival.”

“Though yer husband will be missed, I think we will do just fine without him, young lady,” the Duke replied, his eyes twinkling in amusement at the strength and bearing of the young woman who stood proudly before him.  Impatiently he waved off the attendants who rushed forward to help him from his horse, sliding from the tall animal’s back with no assistance.

Catriona was surprised at the man’s size, which added considerably to his powerful presence.  He was a man built to do battle, a warrior, and not merely a leader who earned his living  sending others to war.  She guessed him to be at least six feet tall, almost as tall as Lachlan was.  He was not as broad in the shoulders as her husband, however, but even then he had a sturdy, muscular build that spoke of confidence and strength.  The Duke’s bright, straight white teeth were bracketed by a dark, neatly trimmed beard, and his hair hung in waves, nearly reaching his shoulders.

With strong, deliberate strides, the Duke walked to Catriona’s side, offering her his arm.  “I look forward to a tour of the keep, my lady, and then a chance to enjoy yer hospitality.  My men are saddle weary and hungry, and they will be grateful for a good meal.”  Turning to the men behind him, he gestured for the Earl of Seafield to dismount.  “Come join us, Seafield, before I am tempted to keep yer daughter to myself.  She is a lovely gel.  You should be proud.”

Slowly, the visibly aged Earl climbed from the back of his horse, his features grey and lined. 
My father has aged 20 years since I left Boyne Castle
, Catriona thought, struggling to contain the burgeoning sympathy she felt for the man.  Despite his ill treatment of her in the past, he was still her father, and she knew without a doubt she would always love him.

She hardly recognized the man who walked toward her, his stiff, proud carriage  but a memory, having been replaced by a stooping, withered posture.  “Catriona,” the Earl said with a nod to his daughter as he stood before her.

Lowering her gaze, she curtseyed politely, acknowledging him with a simple “Father.”

The Duke chuckled, either unaware of the tense history that existed between the pair, or unwilling to acknowledge the obvious discomfort.  “My lady, if you please I would like to present Baron John Forbes of Craigevar, a member of Queen Anne’s Privy Council.”  A short, stocky man with a guarded, skeptical expression stepped forward, his eyes taking in Catriona’s appearance with unerring attention.  The man clearly bore little resemblance to Lachlan’s branch of the Forbes family, she decided as he bent to place a kiss on her outstretched hand.  The man was only a few years younger than her own father, and his dour, serious expression spoke of a joyless life.  Clearly, his responsibilities to the Queen weighed heavily on his shoulders, no doubt making him very unpopular with the contentious Highland clans.  Catriona greeted the man warmly, recognizing him as her husband’s kin, then stepped back to speak further with the Earl.

Before she could catch her father’s eye, the Duke interrupted her.  “There will be plenty of time for warm greetings between father and daughter later,” he said.  “For now, my stomach commands that we hasten the tour and enjoy the banquet you have prepared in our honor.  Lead on, Lady Catriona,”  he commanded as he swept her up in the whirl of his determination.