Highland Grace (22 page)

“Aye. The hot bath will ease my aching body,
and tho’ I’m weary, I’m even more famished.”

He chuckled. “All right, then. Let’s get you
in the tub. Would you like a bit of the lavender oil added to the
water?”

Jesslyn nodded, “Mmm, that would be nice, and
the lavender soap, as well, if it please you. My thanks.”

* * *

After settling his wife in the steaming bath
and retrieving the herbal enhancements she required, Bao left the
room in pursuit of a long-overdue discussion with his grandmother
as well as a meal for him and Jesslyn.

He found his grandmother in her bedchamber
readying for slumber. After bringing her a cup of wine to ease her
thirst, he settled next to her by the hearth. “I’ve something of
some import to tell you, Grandmother, which has to do with Branwenn
and, mayhap, a coming war.

She sat bolt upright in her chair. “Tell me!”
she demanded, the weariness instantly clearing from her eyes.

“Remember you the first footer, Reys ap
Gryffyd?”

She gave him a short nod. “Aye.”

“He has proved to be Branwenn’s brother by
blood.”

She looked into the hearthfire a moment.
“That explains Branwenn’s odd behavior here in the great hall last
eve.” She glanced at him, saying, “She swooned—did she tell you?”
before turning her gaze once more to the hearthfire.

Bao nodded. “Aye.”

She pierced him with a purposeful look. “Give
me the entirety of it, then,” she said brusquely.

Bao told her all he knew of the man and his
mission, explaining to her the reason that the fortress might come
under siege since he did not release Branwenn to return with her
brother-germane to his homeland.

“Does Daniel know of this?” she asked when
Bao paused to take a sip of his wine.

“Aye. I spoke with him about it just after I
met Reys earlier today.”

“And he’s in full agreement that we should
fight her kin to keep her from them?”

Bao nodded once. “Aye,” he replied
shortly.

“We all think of Branwenn as one of our own
but, I must say, I cannot agree that we should keep her from her
blood kin, whether we agree with their plans for her or not.”

“You think it fine to send the lass off with
strangers, blood kin or nay, when she is quite set against it?” Bao
asked, disbelievingly.

His grandmother seemed just as astonished by
his attitude. “The lass must wed, and if her blood kin can wed her
to a nobleman, I see no real difference in what they planned for
her from what our own plans for her have been.”

Bao leapt to his feet. “The
difference
is that her kin are strangers to her—and to
us
—and so too
will be this unknown nobleman to whom they are set on binding her
for life! What if he’s cruel, or depraved, or diseased? You know
well that it is not beyond the realm of the possible that a royal
prince might wed her to the worst sort simply for his own gain.”
Bao’s lungs were blowing hard by the time he finished his
diatribe.

She took a deep breath into her lungs and,
slapping her hands on her knees, said, “Well, it seems we must
prepare for war, then.”

“Aye,” Bao ground out. “We must.” He forced
himself to calm down and settled back onto his stool. “I want to
make plain that Reys will do all he can to urge his cousin withdraw
his decision to use Branwenn as a pawn in his devices to gain
influence in the march regions, so war may not be the final
outcome.” Sighing, he shrugged, adding, “Of course, there is no
surety of success.”

“When will we know if an army’s been raised,
do you suppose?”

“It should take Reys another few sennights to
reach his homeland, and then, mayhap, a sennight more to gain an
audience with the prince. If all goes well, the prince will either
completely withdraw his edict or, mayhap, at least agree to certain
conditions we insist upon for Branwenn’s protection. If Reys cannot
convince their royal cousin of these terms, then we will go to
war.” Bao shrugged. “Once negotiations are concluded, ‘twill take
at least a fortnight for his army to be raised and about a moon for
them to arrive on our doorstep, I trow. I do not expect the siege
before the spring.”

* * *

When Bao returned to his bedchamber an hour
later he was pleased to find that Jesslyn slumbered peacefully on
their bed.

As he stood gazing upon her, she slowly
opened her eyes, turned onto her back and stretched her arms over
her head, flexing her feet and toes at the same time. He smiled
down at her and caressed her thigh.

“Mmm. What hour is it? Have I slumbered
long?” she asked.

“’Tis an hour past the vesper bell, you must
only have slept for a short time after your bath. Our meal is being
brought up now; you should dress. He retrieved her chemise and robe
from atop the chest at the end of the bed and held them out to her.
“Do you need me to assist you?”

She scurried to sit up, grabbing the
garments. “Nay, just don’t allow them entrance until I’ve put these
on!”

Bao chuckled and moved toward the door to the
chamber. “Worry not. I’ve no desire for any other than myself to
behold the ripened treasures of your womanly form.”

“And I have no desire for any other to see me
in my nakedness evermore,” she replied as she shimmied into her
clothing.

A knock came at the door and Bao called out,
“Hold a moment,” and then, “Enter,” when Jesslyn was covered once
again. The servants trailed in carrying a small table, a trencher
of food, a flagon of ale and some fresh water for the wash stand.
Once the table and supper were placed by the window, where Bao
indicated they should go, he turned back to his wife and assisted
her to her seat.

As the tub and water was cleared out of the
chamber, Bao and Jesslyn ate their meal, saying little.

When he saw that Jesslyn had finished eating,
he said, “Mayhap, we should settle by the hearth.”

She nodded, “All right.” Bao assisted her to
her feet and they walked hand-in-hand to the chair by the fire. Bao
settled her on his lap and she wrapped her arms around his neck,
then rested her head on his shoulder with a sigh. “This is
nice.”

Bao kissed her forehead. “Does Alleck stay at
Niall’s this night?” he asked, suddenly remembering the lad. The
day had been so long, so eventful, that he had forgotten, until
now, that Jesslyn had sent Alleck there while Maryn was in her
childbed.

She nodded lazily. “Aye. You must speak with
him on the morrow, tho’. It seems he and Niall got themselves into
some mischief early this morn. They lobbed wet hose they’d rolled
into missiles at Niall’s sister and her wee friend.”

Bao guffawed before he thought better of
it.

She slapped his chest. “This is exactly the
reason Grandmother Maclean and I didn’t want them having that
mangonel in the first place.”

“Now, Jesslyn, lads need their sport. And I’m
sure the lasses weren’t harmed by such play,” he said with a
grin.

She lifted her head and looked at him. “They
were still wailing and as mad as wet hens when I took the lads over
to Niall’s house to beg forgiveness.”

His grin evaporated. “You made them beg
forgiveness? That seems a bit harsh. After all, a lad must have his
pride.”

His wife sat up, her back straight as a
board. “And what of a lass’s pride? Does she not have that right as
well?”

“Aye, certainly,” Bao replied. “But she
should keep her distance from a lad’s fortress, else she find
herself the target of his defense machine.”

With a sigh, she relaxed back into her
previous position. “Aye, you are right. The lasses
did
seek
to break through the lads’ fortress wall.”

“And were the lasses made to beg forgiveness
as well, then?”

“Aye, but not before much persuasion. They
were, after all, the defeated party.”

Kissing her brow again, he placed a hand on
her thigh and the other at her waist, bringing her more snugly
against him. “Good.”

“The lads also took one of the blacksmith’s
buckets of water that he uses to cool his tools.”

It was his turn to sigh. “All right. I shall
have a talk with him about it in the morn.”

They were silent, both lost in their own
thoughts and enjoying the physical closeness their positions on the
chair allowed.

“Of what are you thinking?” she said after a
while. “You’ve been pensive since your return to our chamber. Is
all well?”

Bao took a deep breath and released it before
answering. “Our guest, the first footer of last eve, is my sister
Branwenn’s brother by blood.”

She bolted upright and would have toppled
from her perch had Bao not tightened his hold on her. She stared at
him, her eyes wide with shock. “How know you this?”

“He’s been searching for her for two years,
tracing first the trail his father, Gryffyd Duy ap Kenneric, had
taken directly after my father abducted Branwenn’s mother and then
looking for all dark-haired lads or lasses of Branwenn’s age
throughout the towns and boroughs of the Kingdom of Alba.”

“Her father was able to track his wife? How
did he not find her before her death?”

“It took several days for him to learn of her
seizure as she had not been taken from her home, but had been taken
on the way to her sister’s holding when my father attacked her
traveling party. When she didn’t arrive as planned, her sister’s
husband sent out a search party and found the slain bodies of her
bodyguard, but there was no sign of her. He sent a missive to
Branwenn’s father telling him of the snatching and in which
direction he should follow. He then immediately set out to track
the fiends who’d stolen her away, but my father was able to divert
their search in another direction long enough for him to lose them
completely. ‘Twas only after many moons of continued searching that
Branwenn’s father finally came upon the kirk where his wife lay
buried.”

“Were you with them when they stole her?”
There was quiet horror in her voice.

Bao didn’t answer immediately. When he
finally spoke, his voice was gruff with impotent rage. “Aye. I was
with them, but not among them when they committed the crime. Nay, I
was left in a wooded copse to guard another captive, a merchant my
father was using as cover to his schemes. He and his band of
mercenaries pretended to be the man’s bodyguards as they traveled
across Cambria reaving and wasting.”

She lifted her palm to his chest and soothed
it with a gentle caress. “You were but a bairn; there was naught
more you could have done to protect the lady from your father’s
villainy.”

“Aye, there was more. I could have skewered
him through the heart as he slept.”

“You were but a lad. Hardly yet capable of
finding your way through this world on your own, nor of breaking
the bonds of slavery to your father.”

Bao laughed in self-derision. “Nay, ‘twas
over two years more before I was released from my bondage by his
death. Unfortunately, ‘twas not before his heinous crimes against
Daniel’s mother and her father.”

“Nor, I trow, before he made you a
whore.”

His gaze sharpened on her, his muscles
tensed. ‘Twas an apt and true guess on her part. “Nay, not before
that either,” he said, keeping all emotion from his voice.

His wife’s eyes pooled with tears and he
watched, in detached fascination, her throat work before she said,
“How old were you? The first time?”

He didn’t want to say.
He didn’t want to
say!
But her eyes, her gentle caress brought the answer forth
in spite of the cool iron taste of fear on his tongue. “Ten
summers.” He managed to keep his tone matter-of-fact.

“So young!” He saw how hard she swallowed,
saw her hand fly to her stomach, and he knew she was fighting to
keep the bile down.

“Aye. But I was mature for my age,” Bao
replied, giving her the rationale he’d been giving himself all
these years. “‘Twas not many hours after Branwenn’s birth, in fact.
‘Twas the bargain I made with the bastard in exchange for his
allowing Branwenn’s mother to be buried properly...and in exchange
for Branwenn’s life as well. In order for me to keep Branwenn safe,
I swore to do the thing he’d been trying to get me to do for
several moons prior.”

“But you were his slave, did you not do
whatever he demanded anyway?”

Bao shook his head. “Nay. Not this. And tho’
he tried beating me into obeying his command, I wouldn’t yield—and
he wouldn’t slay me for my refusal, tho’ I know he hated me, hated
my foreign blood.” Scrubbing his fingers across his brow, he
continued, “I still understand it not, for he had many chances to
do the deed, if he’d so desired.”

“I’m glad he didn’t,” she said, pressing her
damp cheek into his chest.

“Ssh, you mustn’t cry so. Not for me. ‘Twas a
long time ago and I wasn’t under his power, nor that of the
procuress to whom he sold me, for very many moons afterward. And
Branwenn is worth every horrid moment, I assure you.”

She lifted her head and looked at him.
“However did you manage to free yourself from the procuress? And
where was Branwenn?”

“Branwenn was with me. I was the only male in
the whorehouse, the rest were women. The other whores and the maids
that worked in the house helped me take care of my sister during
the time I was there.” Restless now, Bao said, “I have need of a
bit of ale.”

He rose to his feet and settled Jesslyn on
the chair he’d just vacated before walking over to the table and
pouring out a bit of the substance into a flagon. Lifting it to his
lips, he drank deeply and then set the container back in its place.
The conversation had veered into darker territory than he’d
intended. He took several deep breaths and released them before
turning and walking back to the hearth. Once there, he remained
standing, crossing his arms over his chest and gazing into the
flames. “Suffice it to say that I soon met someone who sponsored me
as squire. He took both me and Branwenn into his home.” He didn’t
know why he didn’t tell her then that it was Giric who’d taken them
in, Giric to whom he’d given his service, both in battle and the
bedchamber.