The Highlander (17 page)

"Your mother never had more children?"

He did not answer at first. After a long spell of silence he said, "She bore that English bastard a pair of English daughters. Twins," he added, then said, "I will speak no more of it."

"You are fortunate to have such a large family," she said, thinking about her only sibling, the brother who was now the Comte de Toulouse, since her father had died.

She saw the spark of interest in his eyes, and she fully expected him to inquire as to the size of her own family, or if she had any recollection of them at all, but as quickly as it came, the spark faded, and instead, he said, "You might be interested to know we also have one of your countrymen nearby—a Frenchman who has lived in Scotland for many years now. His name is Vilain Rogeaux. He is quite a ladies' man, as you will soon discover."

Relief swept through her when he said the

Frenchman had lived in Scotland for many years. Her only hope was that he did not keep up with what was going on in France. "It will be good to have someone to converse with in my own language," she replied. Then, knowing she was being a bit spiteful for doing so, she asked, "And your bride to be? Is she in residence here as well?"

"No, Gillian lives nearby."

"How inconvenient."

He laughed, knowing it was her nervousness that prompted her to react as she had, for he knew it was not Sophie's true nature to be ill disposed toward anyone.

She asked a few more questions and he answered them, but he refused to discuss the subject of his mother. At last she gave up, and they rode for almost an hour without either of them saying anything more.

For some time now, he had been aware of the way she seemed to grow more apprehensive as the gray walls and battlements of Monleigh Castle drew closer. When he saw it on the horizon, rising up like a massive volcano, wreathed in mist, as if it were ready to spew forth fire and brimstone, he felt glad to be so close.

He lifted his gaze to his home, where the massive walls rose steeply out of the rock that thrust straight up out of the North Sea. He felt pride in who he was, and what he had inherited by virtue of the Graham blood that coursed through his veins.

"Is that it?" she asked.

"Aye, I ken I am the first to welcome ye to Monleigh Castle, lass. 'Tis the home of the earls of Monleigh, but the eighth and present earl is the only one ye need to be concerned with."

"Well, when you see him, please tell the Eighth Earl of Monleigh that I think his castle is a place the newcomer looks upon with both awe and dread."

He supposed that
t&
the first-time viewer, there was nothing friendly about it, for it was stark and somber if one looked at it without considering the warmth and love it harbored inside.

They arrived at the castle, and waited for the iron portcullis to lift slowly over the heavily carved arch of the gate.

He noticed the way her hands trembled. "It is not as inhospitable as it seems. No harm will come to ye. On that ye have my word."

"I daresay no one will be setting out the castle's finest gold and silver, either," she replied, not bothering to hide the bite of sarcasm.

His face was dark and impassive, but he tried to lighten her mood. "If it's gold and silver ye want, it might be arranged...if that sort of thing appeals to you."

She did not respond but merely lifted the reins, kicked her horse and rode forward through the gate and entered the courtyard ahead of him.

He did not miss the way her hand came up to wipe the smudges of travel from her face, or to tuck the wisps of hair back beneath the plaid covering her head. She was truly an exasperating lass, and more than once during their journey she had angered him to the point that he considered yanking her from her horse and making love to her on the spot, for there was little doubt in his mind that it would have made things better for both of them if he had.

He caught up with her and pulled out his handkerchief, which he offered to her.

She declined with the comment, "There is no one here I wish to impress. Let them see me at my worst. It will be in harmony with the way they will feel toward me soon enough."

"Have ye no optimism, lass?"

"Optimism? Pray, milord, what is that?"

He had never encountered a more stubborn, obstinate woman. That it was also the woman he desired above everything rankled him. How could he be so enamored with a woman whose every word carried with it the sting of an asp?

He watched her ride ahead of him accompanied by her angry pride, and he had never observed royalty do it better. Sometimes, it was difficult for him to capture a picture in his mind of her as anything but an aristocrat, and for good reason. He would bet his life that she was not of low breeding. If she would only admit such it would simplify many things, but by this point he was beginning to doubt she ever would.

The men in the keep all turned to watch her ride by.

To say she caused a stir among them would be to understate things a bit. Several tried to outdo the other in rushing forward to help her dismount. She accepted their help graciously and was soon on the ground, although she was not, at first, too steady on her feet.

"Alert my family to my homecoming and tell them I have brought a visitor. And see to our horses."

There was a flurry of activity as men rushed to do the Earl of Monleigh's bidding. Jamie offered his arm to Sophie, but she declined. "I see no reason for us to present ourselves as anything other than what we are: lord and servant."

"You are not my servant, mistress, and I will warn you now not to use that phrase again."

Twilight was fast upon them, and the moment they stepped into the darker interior of the castle, where torches flamed along passageways and candles guttered in sconces in the gathering rooms, they both had to wait a moment for then-eyes to adjust.

A tall, graying woman hurried toward them, a ring of keys suspended from her belt. "Why did you not send word that you were coming?" she asked, her gaze going over Sophie as she spoke.

"I dismissed the servants at Danegaeld upon my arrival, so there was no one to send." Jamie gave her a kiss on the cheek. "It is good to see you, Fenella. You are well?"

"Aye, I am as well as ever, God be praised. You have brought a guest, I see."

"Aye, this is Sophie. I will officially introduce her to everyone in the Great Hall." He glanced at Sophie. "This is Fenella. She is what you would call in France, the
chatelaine,
for she is the keeper of the keys to all the rooms. Nothing goes on here that she does not know about."

It was the first time he had observed her around others, and he was greatly surprised, for Sophie greeted her politely, in a way that showed both consideration of others and good manners.

Her clothes might be dirty and her hair disheveled, but her manners were worthy of the English court. Even in her bedraggled state she commanded attention, and a quick glance at the men about said she certainly got it.

They entered the Great Hall and Jamie saw the way his sister's face lit up as she hurried to greet them.

"Jamie, you rogue! I thought you were never coming home," she said, laughing as Jamie caught her around the waist and swung her around.

"And how is my favorite sister?"

"Much better now that you have returned." With a glance at Sophie, she said, "Introduce me to your guest, please, for I am anxious to meet someone so lovely."

"My sister, Arabella," he said. "And this is our honored guest, Sophie."

Jamie put his arm around Arabella and the two of them walked a few paces in front of Sophie, who walked with Fenella. Obviously curious, Fenella asked a few polite questions, which made it impossible for Sophie to hear what Jamie and Arabella were talking about.

Me, more than likely, she thought.

By the time he got around to making the introductions everyone had gathered in the hall, which, thankfully, meant he only had to intraduce Sophie one more time. He did not offer even a brief explanation as to who she was, or why he had brought her here, and he knew no one would dare raise the question.

He knew she was weary, so he did not prolong things, and after a short while said, "Sophie is exhausted from the journey."

Fenella nodded. "Shall I show her to her room, then?"

"Aye," Jamie said.

"I will accompany you," Arabella said.

"She has no baggage?" Fenella asked.

"No," he replied, and noticed the way Sophie's shoulders seemed to draw together at his reply.

He waited until the women had departed before he turned toward his brothers to greet each of them properly. Before they could ask, he began his story about the circumstances of how Tavish found her and brought her to Danegaeld.

As he knew they would, his brothers had far too many questions.

Niall was the first. "She has been there with you all this time?"

"Aye, what was I supposed to do? Turn her out? She was near death when Tavish arrived, and in no condition to travel."

Fraser was next. "It was just the two of you... there... alone?''

"Aye, we were alone, and I will thank ye kindly to refrain from making any further comments as to that matter."

"Fortunate bastard," Niall said. "Why does nothing like that ever happen to me?"

They all laughed. Bran, Niall and Fraser all seemed jovial enough about it, and made various offers to take the lass off his hands.

Ignoring them, Jamie went on to explain Sophie's loss of memory and the fact that she had no knowledge of who she was.

Calum was not so "•accepting as the others. "Convenient, wouldn't you say?"

"What is that supposed to mean?". Fraser asked.

"Nothing. I was merely wondering how he was going to explain all of this to Gillian?"

"The same way I am explaining it to you," Jamie said.

"You cannot keep her here," Calum said. "To do so would be an insult to Gillian."

"Gillian is an insult to herself," Bran said. "I fancy I like having the lass here...much more in fact, than Gillian. I vow having a French lassie here will liven things up a bit."

Jamie scowled at his brother. "The lass is a guest at Monleigh, and she will stay here until she regains her memory, and in case she does not, then for as long as she likes, or as I deem it necessary."

"This will cause problems between you and Gillian," Calum said, obviously in a sulky mood over the way things were going.

"That is my worry," Jamie said, "and not yours. So you may leave the fretting over it to me. Now, let us have a glass of ale while you bring me up to date on what has transpired while I was away."

Sophie followed Arabella down a long corridor, listening to her gay chatter, which she found very comforting. She liked Arabella immediately, and was so glad to learn there would be a woman about who was close to her own age.

The only time Arabella eased up on her chatter was when they began to climb a winding staircase and, looking up, Sophie could see why, for the stairs in the tower seemed to go on forever.

Sophie began to wonder if she was to be imprisoned there, but they came to a door, stepped through it, and entered into another corridor that was part of a different wing of the castle.

"This is a rather roundabout way of getting here, but I thought you would prefer to come the long way and spare yourself the indignity of being stared at by all the male members of the clan."

Sophie immediately recognized a friend in Arabella, who seemed to accept her as an equal. "Thank you for being so considerate."

Arabella smiled. "Jamie said you lost everything when your ship went aground."

"Yes, although I don't remember what I had, so I have not had the unfortunate experience of grieving over my loss."

Arabella laughed. "That is a positive way of looking at it, I ken. Now, dinna ye worry about having no clothes to wear. We are about the same size, and I have far too many clothes—a result of having nothing but brothers."

Sophie smiled. "Thank you for your offer. I must admit I had to borrow a few of your things at Danegaeld. This is one of them, as you have probably noticed," Sophie said, indicating the gray wool dress she wore.