Highland Grace (9 page)

Clearly confounded, she slowly grasped the
hilt in her hands and studied his face. A mischievous light came
into her cerulean blue gaze that told Bao that she was not finished
testing him. She turned and lifted the weapon over her head once
again and when she brought it down, she brought it down hard
against the wood, making a terrible splintering sound as the blade
entered the piece.

Bao gritted his teeth, but managed to keep
from groaning aloud.

She strained to pull it out, but could
not.

With a long stride, Bao stepped up to the
chopping block and, taking hold of the hilt, released his sword
from its prison. With eyes focused away from the blade’s edge, he
handed the sword back to Jesslyn, saying, “‘Twas not quite hard
enough, sweet. You’ll need to put more force behind it next
time.”

* * *

A tremor ran down Jesslyn’s spine at the warm
timbre of Bao’s voice when he used that endearment for her. She
couldn’t bring herself to truly ruin Bao’s weapon. Not only because
of its value,—its worth was enough to keep them in luxury for a
year—but because it held meaning for Bao in other ways as well. She
took a close look at the blade’s edge, running her fingers along it
the way she’d seen Bao do moments before. Luckily, she’d put no
chips in it. But it did need a good polishing now, she could tell.
Biting her lip, she handed the weapon back to him. “I’ve changed my
mind. I find I’m too weary to do such work. I shall do as you said
and refrain from such activity until after my babe is born.”

Bao nodded. “Good. And I hope that means you
will not do any other work that requires heavy lifting until
our
babe has arrived.”

Jesslyn nodded and the ice around her heart
melted a little more. This was the Bao she’d known last summer. But
for how long? She still had no idea what she’d done to set him
against her—or, more precisely, what he’d
believed
she’d
done—and that alone sparked fear in her heart that he’d change
again without notice into the beast she’d wed over a fortnight
past. And what of his woodland lover? At one and the same time, she
wanted not to care and cared much more than she should.

“Let us go back to the cottage and break our
fast. The babe is surely hungry by now,” he said. Jesslyn stiffened
but allowed Bao to settle her hand in the crook of his arm as they
walked the distance to her home.

* * *

Not long afterward, Bao sat at the table as
Jesslyn quietly prepared their meal. He reveled in her lithe grace
as she walked over to the hearth, lifted the lid on the pottage and
took a whiff. Then, setting the lid to the side, she turned and
took a rounded loaf of day-old bread from the basket and sliced it
in half before she cut the center from it and made trenchers for
their meal. Did she have any idea how beautiful she was? He watched
her as she scooped the pottage into the trenchers and placed them
on the table.

She was still rising from her bent position
when she gasped. Her hands flew to her abdomen and Bao’s heart took
a dive into his stomach before it lodged like a shot from a
manganel in his throat. He bolted to her side and grasped her upper
arms. “What? What ails you?” He stepped in closer, placing a hand
over the one she held to her stomach. She tensed at his touch,
which put an answering vise grip on his heart, but allowed the
contact. “Is it the babe?” he asked.

“I believe the babe just quickened.” She held
her gaze on her belly. “‘Twas a light tapping feeling. I was
beginning to worry that I wouldn’t recognize it, but”—she smiled
and her voice held wonder—“I did!”

“Of what are you speaking, Jesslyn? How could
you not recognize something you’ve already gone through
before?”

She went still. A look of dread washed over
her face followed instantly by a mask of serenity and she took
several paces away from him. He narrowed his eyes and said, “Is
there something you are not telling me?”

The silence that followed held weight, but
finally, with a sigh, she walked to the table, took her place and
said, “Sit. I shall explain while we eat our meal.”

Bao sat down and took several bites of the
pottage and watched her do the same before saying, “I’m glad to
know the babe is hale, but why did you worry that you wouldn’t know
when the babe quickened?”

She lifted her eyes from her trencher. “I’ve
never had a babe before.”

Bao sat forward. “Wha—?”

“Alleck is the offspring of my sister and
Graeme, my husband.”

“Your
sister?
Alleck is your
sister’s
bairn? Does Alleck know this?”

Jesslyn pushed her trencher out of the way.
Leaning forward, she rested her crossed arms on the table and
studied the remnants of the pottage as she replied, “Aye, I told
him a bit o’er a year ago.”

Bao was stunned. “How came it that you and
Graeme wed?”

“My sister was living at the MacBean holding.
Graeme had been gone warring for almost the entire time Janet
carried his babe. She became ill and needed to remain abed the last
four moons of the pregnancy and sent me a missive requesting that I
move from the MacLaurin holding, where we were raised, to the
MacBean holding and take care of her while she regained her
strength. I, of course, agreed.” Jesslyn’s mouth turned down at the
corners. “Unfortunately, she died delivering Alleck.”

“Aye, I assumed that to be the case. Where
were your parents—your mother?”

Her eyes closed tight and her brow furrowed.
He was beginning to think she would not answer when she said, “My
father was one of the men who died that bloody day of the massacre
at the MacLaurin holding. He was Laird MacLaurin’s lieutenant.”

Bao leapt from his seat and leaned toward
her. “Christ’s bones! Are you saying
my father
was
responsible for your father’s death?”

Her eyes still tightly shut, she nodded.

And he’d thought her brother’s perfidy
unforgivable. The fact that she’d known this and held no rancor for
Bao because of it tore at his already stinging conscience like the
cut of a thousand blades. He turned and stormed across the room.
Bao’s mind reeled with the recollection of all Daniel had told him
of that fatal, fateful day. Laird MacLaurin had sent most of his
men to find the culprits who had set fires and killed livestock
along three different MacLaurin borders. Thinking ‘twas some
mischief his rival, the MacPherson, was up to, Daniel’s grandfather
had kept only a few men back to guard the keep. But, in fact, it
had been a well-organized trap their father and his band of corrupt
soldiers had set. The real attack came once the keep was left
undefended. In an act of bloody vengeance, Jamison Maclean had
abused and executed the wife who’d left him and the father-in-law
who’d sheltered her. Daniel, only thirteen moons at the time, had
been fishing at the loch and had only survived because Jamison had
not known of his existence.

Standing with his back to her and his head
bowed, he asked grimly, “Was he one of those massacred, or did he
die defending the keep?”

“He was one of the first killed defending the
keep when the marauders rushed through the opened portcullis into
the courtyard.”

He swung around to face her once more. “What
of your mother—what of you and your sister? Where were all of you
that day?”

“There was a cattle fair in the next town. My
mother had taken my sister and me in hopes that she might find a
merchant selling fine cloth for new gowns she wanted to make for
us.”

“My God. When I think of what would have
happened to you had you remained....”

“Nay, don’t think on it. We survived, as did
Daniel, and we flourished,” Jesslyn replied.

Bao nodded and walked back to his stool.
Sitting down, he asked, “And your mother? She’s alive, then?”

Jesslyn’s lips pressed into a straight line
and she shook her head. “Nay, nay. She became ill from a lung fever
one very cold winter. In truth, ‘twas the year before Alleck was
born. She never recovered.”

“I see. So you were all alone at the
MacLaurin holding for quite a time it seems.”

Her smile was sad. “Aye, but I managed. I
make very good ale—did Daniel tell you?”

Bao cocked his head to the side and gave her
a lopsided grin as he looked at her in a new light. “Nay,” he said,
shaking his head. “Nay, he did not.”

Jesslyn placed her hand over her belly and
her eyes glowed.

“The babe?”

“Aye.”

It took every bit of will he had not to take
her in his arms and kiss that warm smile, but somehow he managed
it. He took a gulp of his ale. As he settled the cup at the side of
his trencher, he said, “Mayhap you should continue telling me how
you and Graeme came to wed each other.”

Jesslyn rose from her stool and began
clearing off the table, clearly unsettled by the subject she was to
relate. “I’d never met Graeme,” she said finally. “My sister was
betrothed to him by contract and she was escorted to the MacBean
holding for the wedding. I was not allowed to attend, as I was but
ten summers at the time and deemed too young to travel that far a
distance. They were wed for five years before she got with child.”
Jesslyn tipped her head back and lifted her gaze to some unknown
place above, a wistful smile on her lips. She shook her head,
saying, “She was so happy.”

“And then what happened?” Bao prompted when
Jesslyn hadn’t resumed her tale after a moment.

Jesslyn turned her head, a look of surprise
on her countenance, as if she’d forgotten his presence. “Before she
died, she made me promise that I would take care of her bairn, that
I wouldn’t leave it to be taken care of by one of the women at the
keep. I swore my allegiance to her and waited for Graeme to return.
When he came back, he was told of the death by Lady MacBean, and
that I was there to take care of the babe. He ran to find me.”
Taking a deep breath and letting it out on a sigh, she turned and
faced Bao. Crossing her arms over her chest, she began to rub them
as she said, “I was at the well with some of the other lasses of
the village. He drew me away from them and asked me to wed him. I
did, and we raised Alleck as if he were mine.”

“Yet you didn’t wed him solely to keep your
promise to your sister,” Bao stated.

“Aye, you are right. There was an immediate
attraction between us.”

Bao studied her, saw the residue of grief in
her eyes. “You still love him. And I believe that even now, after
almost three years have passed, you still mourn for him.”

Jesslyn dipped her head. “Aye, I suppose I
shall always love him.”

Bao’s heart twisted. “I won’t ask for your
love, for I know I’m not worthy of it. But is there
naught
I
can do to win your forgiveness, your friendship?”

She looked at him for a long moment before
she finally answered, “I think not. But, only time will tell. For
as you said, we have a long life ahead of us.”

* * *

A sennight later, Bao took a step into their
chamber in the keep just after the nooning meal and stopped short.
Jesslyn stood with her arms crossed next to the clothing chest he’d
placed there earlier. “I see you’ve found my gift.”

She bent down and retrieved the coin that lay
on top of the shimmery blue gown he’d added to the largesse and
marched it over to him. “I shall, of course, accept the return of
my possessions and the new gown as well, as you destroyed one of my
own, but I have no need, nor desire, for this.”

It took a moment for Bao to respond as his
eyes fastened on the gold circle swinging in slow sweeps from the
worn leather thong to which it was attached. Finally, with a
sinking heart, he stepped forward and took it. “I understand. I…”
He swallowed and cleared his throat. “I have a bit of business to
attend to with my brother. G’day to you.” He hauled around and
bolted out of the room.

He plopped himself against the stone wall
outside the chamber and banged his head against it in frustration,
then lifted his fingers to the sharp sting and massaged it.
What
the hell was he going to do?
Everything—everything was fighting
against him. His own vile behavior, his father’s even worse
destruction. Her love for her dead husband. Added to which was her
belief of his adulterous interlude that he had no means of proving
‘twas not true. Aye, he could bring the lass before her, have the
lass explain their arrangement—but would Jesslyn believe? After
their earlier conversation and her continued cool reserve, he had
no hope she would. What a fool he’d been to take the ‘lesson’ that
far. But he’d thought that at least the return of her belongings
would soften her resentment toward him. Mayhap not to the ultimate
point he sought, but at least a move in that direction. Instead,
she was colder than she had been before. As if the gift served more
as a reminder of his deeds than as a reminder of his better, nobler
self.

She wasn’t happy. She never raised her voice
to him, was biddable enough, and certainly maintained the
appearance that all was well between them when they were with his
family, but her only smiles were for others, never for him. He was
out of ideas. He wasn’t a man to give up a fight, but every warrior
knew when to stay in the battle and when to retreat. And it was
clearly time to retreat.

* * *

Jesslyn was back at her cottage an hour
later, having fled there after her encounter with Bao in order to
keep from being trapped into sewing with the ladies in the solar.
Firstly, because she didn’t think she could keep the calm and
contented manner she presented to them from slipping, and secondly,
because she needed some busy work to keep her mind off of the heavy
ache in her heart.

She had just started crushing the malt for
the ale she planned to brew when a knock came on the door.