Courting an Angel (27 page)

Rob smiled, pleased that Gordon was thinking of her. “Tell him I’ll be down in a few minutes,” she instructed the girl. It appeared that acquiring English habits had been easier than falling out of a tree. Hopefully, losing those habits would prove just as easy.

“Prepare yerself to meet the great clan Campbell,” Gabby warned, and then disappeared out the door.

Rob washed the sleep from her face and then dressed in the skirt and the blouse that had once belonged to her husband’s mother. She brushed her ebony mane and let it cascade loosely to her waist. Finished with her morning toilet, Rob donned her beggar bead necklace.

Though she was the MacArthur laird’s daughter, Rob was a stranger at Inverary Castle. How could she know what forces might be set against her? Caution was never wasted; the MacArthur clan’s children had taught her that important lesson.

“’Tis yer turn,” Rob told Smooches. She dressed him in the sweater she’d knitted and then scooped him up into the crook other left arm.

The morning had aged into a feeble old man by the time Rob stood in the corridor outside the great hall. She paused before stepping toward the entrance and, with a badly shaking hand, smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from her skirt.

“Well, how do I look?” Rob asked the pup.

In answer, Smooches licked her hand.

“Thank ye, I think.”

Rob took a deep, calming breath. She knew that first impressions were important and worried about not looking her best. She hoped that her husband’s clan did not find her lacking in any way.

Summoning all of her courage, Rob forced herself to take that giant step forward: She stood in front of the hall’s entrance and hesitated. Great Bruce’s ghost, she’d never seen so many people in one place at the same time.

“She’s here,” a voice shouted over the noise.

Panic surged through Rob when she saw the sea of strange faces turn toward her. Apparently, every Campbell in Argyll sat inside that chamber and waited to catch a glimpse of Gordon’s bride.

Out of habit, Rob moved to hide her stained left hand within the folds other skirt, but realized that was impossible with Smooches ensconced in the crook of her left arm. Before she could shift the pup to the other side, her husband stood in front of her.

Gordon took her right hand in his and raised it to his lips. “I despaired of seein’ ye this mornin’,” he said with a smile.

Rob calmed beneath the warmth of his smile and the tender emotion in his disarming gray eyes. “Ye should have awakened me earlier,” she replied.

“Ye looked so peaceful,” he told her. “I hadna the heart to disturb ye.”

The thought that he’d watched her sleeping made Rob blush. She dropped her gaze in embarrassment, little knowing the pleasing picture she presented to all of those watching Campbells was demure femininity.

Without another word, Gordon gently forced her to step forward with him; hand in hand, they walked through that mass of Campbells toward the high table. With her husband by her side, Rob wasn’t nearly so frightened as she would have been if she’d walked alone through that crowd. Still, having all those unfamiliar gazes fixed on her hardly inspired tranquility within her breast. She much preferred blending into a crowd to being the center of attention.

“Is anyone guardin’ the walls or tendin’ the cattle?” Rob whispered.

Gordon chuckled and gave her hand a gentle squeeze which, she realized, was meant to bolster her courage. Rob cast him an intimate, grateful smile.

“What’s she carryin’?” a voice asked.

Gordon stopped walking and whispered to her, “Ye must meet this man personally.”

With a polite smile fixed on her face, Rob stared at the dark-haired giant. He couldn’t seem to decide whether to look at her or at Smooches.

“I’d like to present Dewey, one of our most valuable warriors,” Gordon introduced them. “Dewey, say hello to Lady Rob.”

“Hello.” Dewey grinned, obviously flattered by his lord’s description.

“I’m verra pleased to make yer acquaintance,” Rob said to him. “Gabby has already told me good thin’s aboot ye. I feel safe knowin’ yer protectin’ Inverary.”

“Thank ye, Lady Rob.” Dewey leaned closer to Gordon and in a worried whisper, said, “Gordy, she’s got a boy’s name.”

“She’s a girl,” Gordon told him, winking at Rob. “Ye can take my word on it.”

Another giant Campbell clansman stepped up beside Dewey. With him stood a voluptuous, dark-haired beauty holding a baby boy in her arms.

“Rob, I present my close friend Fergus,” Gordon introduced them. His tone of voice altered when he added, “And this is his wife, Kendra.”

The change in her husband’s tone of voice alerted Rob to the abrupt change in his mood. She glanced sidelong at him. His profile appeared carved in stone as he stared at the dark-haired beauty. His cordial smile had vanished, and he appeared none too happy.

“I’m pleased to meet ye,” Rob said, nodding politely at the man and the woman.

“What’s that yer carryin’?” Fergus asked.

Rob smiled. “’Tis Smooches, my dog.”

“Dog?” Kendra said, her voice laced with barely disguised sarcasm. “It looks more like a cat.”

Rob shifted her gaze to the woman and froze. With a fascinated expression on her face, the woman was staring at her exposed birthmark. Rob longed to hide her shame within the folds of her skirt, but the dog in her arms prevented movement. When the woman met her gaze, Rob recognized unmasked hatred gleaming at her.

What would she do if this woman made a protective sign of the cross? The crowd around them seemed to be hanging on their every word and watching with unusually rapt attention.

“The lad is as handsome as his mother is pretty,” Rob forced herself to say conversationally.

“Thank ye, Lady Rob,” Fergus spoke up. “Would ye care to hold him? ’Twould be practice for when Gordon and ye have yer own.”

At that, Kendra shook her head and clutched her son as if the devil himself wanted to snatch him away. She shifted her gaze to Gordon and asked in a loud voice, “Have ye seen Duncan and Gavin yet?”

Rob heard several smothered gasps from clansmen standing nearby and flicked a puzzled glance at their audience. No one would meet her gaze. She looked up at Gordon, who had suddenly developed an angry twitch in his cheek.

“His Grace mentioned those boys yesterday,” Rob said, cutting into the tense silence. “Are they yer sons?”

“Aye, Duncan and Gavin are mine,” Kendra answered, a satisfied smile touching her lips. Her smile lacked warmth and did not reach her eyes.

“How fortunate ye are to have such a family,” Rob remarked.

“The forge willna wait any longer.” Fergus said, casting Gordon a meaningful glance. “Ye’ll excuse us?” The man grasped his wife’s upper arm with unnecessary force and escorted her from the hall.

Watching their retreat, Rob felt off balance. Something important had just transpired, but she didn’t understand what it was nor could she question her husband. He appeared ready to pounce on anyone who even considered giving him a crooked look.

“Shall we?” Gordon asked, taking her hand in his again.

Duke Magnus stood when she finally reached the high table. He smiled and bowed in courtly manner over her right hand, which demonstrated to the watching Campbells that he approved of his son’s bride.

“Good mornin’, Yer Grace,” Rob greeted him. “I see that I’ve kept the whole clan waitin’.”

“’Tis yer prerogative, my dear. How did ye sleep?” the duke asked.

“Like the dead,” she answered. “I didna even rouse when Gordy joined me.”

“Dinna sit down yet,” Gordon said, lifting Smooches out of her arms. Then warned, “Brace yerself.”

In a loud clear voice that carried to the far corners of the hall, Gordon announced, “I give ye Inverary’s new lady, Rob MacArthur. When ye serve her faithfully, ye serve my father and me faithfully.” He held Smooches up and said, “This is my wife’s dog, not a cat.”

Rumbles of chuckles echoed within the hall.

“Puir Smooches is exceedingly weak and, as ye can see, no bigger than a mite,” Gordon told the crowd of kinsmen. “’Tis because he’s English.”

Everyone laughed loudly. Rob cast her husband a side-wise smile.

“Lady Rob’s a mite small herself,” one warrior shouted.

“And she’s got a boy’s name,” another man called.

“The MacArthur laird named his only daughter in honor of Robert the Bruce, and she’s as fierce and fearless as he was,” Gordon told them, his pride apparent in his voice. “Queen Elizabeth’s men chased us out of England because my wee wife dared to draw her last resort on the English secretary of state.”

The Campbell clansmen went wild. Their cheers and whistles erupted in the hall and shook the rafters overhead.

Unaccustomed to favorable attention, Rob nodded to acknowledge their approval and blushed from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. She only prayed they’d be just as amenable once they got a good look at her devil’s flower.

“Say a few words, angel,” Gordon whispered to her.

“I — I’m verra happy to be amongst my husband’s clansmen,” Rob said in a voice so soft the men in the hall strained to hear her. “I genuinely hope that ye’ll soon consider me one of ye.”

The men applauded her, and several banged the hilts of their daggers on the wooden trestle tables.

Gordon gestured for silence. “Ye’ve had yer peek at her. Now there’s work to be done. Go on aboot yer business so my wee wife can eat in peace.”

The hall cleared quickly. In a very few minutes only the three at the high table remained.

“Here we are,” Biddy said, arriving with Rob’s breakfast. The housekeeper set barley bannocks, oatmeal porridge, and a mug of Old Man’s milk down on the table in front of her.

“Why, ’tis my favorite breakfast,” Rob exclaimed with delight. She hadn’t feasted on these delicacies in more than a year.

Biddy winked at her. “Gordy told me what ye liked.”

“Thank ye for thinkin’ of me, my lord,” Rob said.

Gordon leaned close, so close she caught his fresh scent of mountain heather. “Yer forever on my mind, angel.”

Rob cast him a look that told him she didn’t believe a word of that.

“Yer even lovelier than yer mother was at yer age,” Duke Magnus remarked, smiling at the byplay between his son and his daughter-in-law. “’Tis the Highland blood that spawns perfection.”

“Thank ye, Yer Grace.” Unused to all this flattery and approval, Rob wondered why she’d so desperately feared coming to Inverary. These Campbells weren’t so bad as she had supposed, and this particular morning was fast becoming the happiest day of her entire life. Acceptance from her native Highlanders was a heady experience.

“Gordy and I ate at the Royal Rooster Tavern in London,” Rob told him.

Duke Magnus stared at her blankly.

“Ye know, the tavern where my mother once worked as a servin’ wench.”

The duke’s expression cleared, and he burst out laughing. “Dinna repeat this,” he said, “but yer mother was the most incompetent servin’ wench I’ve ever seen. I was half in love with her until I discovered she was actually Iain’s runaway bride.”

Duke Magnus glanced at his son and added, “’Twas before I married yer mother, of course.”

“What high times ye must have had,” Gordon said. “How excitin’ life must have been with two bonny young queens competin’ with each other.”

“I warrant the world had never seen anythin’ like it,” the duke agreed. “And never will again.”

“I’ve a few thin’s to do,” Gordon said, turning to Rob. “Would ye care to take Smooches outside in the garden while I’m occupied?”

Rob nodded.

Gordon stood and grabbed a cloak from the chair beside his. After dropping the pup into her arms, he wrapped her cloak around her shoulders and fastened it, saying, “’Twas my mother’s cloak.”

“I’m glad ye’ve finally come home to us,” Duke Magnus said to her, rising when they did. “If anythin’ troubles ye, come directly to me. I’m the law in Argyll.”

When they left the great hall, Gordon and Rob walked down a long corridor and then descended the wheel stairs to the ground level. Rob saw two doors, one on her right and one on her left. She knew the one on her right led to the courtyard.

“I’m goin’ out here,” Gordon told her, pointing at the courtyard door. “That door leads to an enclosed, private garden that my father built for my mother. Smooches can run freely there without risk of bein’ trampled.”

Rob nodded and turned toward the garden door.

“Angel?” Her husband’s voice stopped her.

“Yes?” Rob glanced over her shoulder at him.

Gordon said nothing more, but his expression appeared troubled as he stared at her. He opened his mouth to speak, but then apparently changed his mind and disappeared into the courtyard.

Banishing the disturbing thought that the morning was about to take a turn for the worse, Rob stepped outside into the walled garden and paused to breath deeply of the crisp mountain air. She could hardly believe she’d returned to the Highlands. The year she’d passed at her uncle’s in England now seemed more like a pleasant dream than reality. But, she’d weathered her first meeting with her husband’s people better than she would ever have thought possible. Dare she hope to find acceptance here at Inverary Castle?