Highland Magic (23 page)

* * *

Jesslyn met Reys and Alyson in the courtyard
the next morn and stood with them as they waited for their mounts
to be readied for the journey. “Reys,” she said, “I’ve been
deliberating whether to tell you this before you leave, or allow
you to find out when you reach the MacGregor holding....”

“Aye, what do you wish to tell me?”

“Your sister is betrothed to Callum
MacGregor, the laird’s nephew and Lady Maclean’s grandson.”

Reys was silent for a long minute as he
digested this bit of news. If his sister wed a Highlander, she
would not return with him to Cambria. And, if she did not return
with him to Cambria, their princely cousin might be rather peeved.
“I see,” he said at last. “And when, pray, is the event to take
place?”

“As soon after
Samhainn
as possible. It
rests on the priest’s schedule to give the blessing, I understand.
Maryn and I are to be informed of the day in time to
attend.”

Alyson’s eyes went wide with apprehension.
What if her brother found out? What would he do to Branwenn? She
would have to find some way to speak to her husband about those
missives. She only wished now that she had shown them to him
before, but she had just been too afraid that her brother would
find out, and ‘twas well before she’d grown so good with the bow
and arrow that she’d received the last one.

Thank heavens, her brother had no idea where
they were. She’d made sure of that. For, tho’ Reys had misled the
servants that remained at the keep, giving them a false
destination, as Prince Llywelyn had decreed, she’d also lied in her
letter to her father that they were bound for one of the Prince’s
holdings. And since neither her brother, nor her father, wanted any
dealing with that man, she knew they’d do naught to verify it.

Reys nodded. “My thanks to you for telling
me, I know ‘twas not an easy thing to reveal.”

“Aye, but now that I’ve done so, I know ‘twas
the right thing to do.

The stablemen brought their mounts to them
and Reys took a moment to help Alyson get settled in the saddle
before turning back to Jesslyn. “Good day to you, my lady.”

“Yes,” Alyson said shyly, “Good day, Lady
Maclean. My thanks for the lovely chamber you provided.”

Jesslyn smiled warmly at the young lass. She
was such a shy wee thing. But lovely! My, how lovely she was. And
she clearly felt uncomfortable using Jesslyn’s first name. “You are
most welcome, Lady Gryffyd,” Jesslyn replied kindly, mirroring the
lass’s formality. The dimple that came into prominence when the
lass smiled, as well as the warm blush that suffused her cheeks,
told Jesslyn that she had not been called by that title yet, but
was pleased to hear it.

On the third morning after their departure,
they arrived at the MacGregor holding.

* * *

Gaiallard made camp in the wood not far from
the village at the base of the Maclean fortress. Snow had fallen
earlier, coating the ground, the trees, and blocking the entrance
to a small cave he’d found. It took him several hours to dig the
snow away and then find enough dry wood to start a fire. He carried
his own kindling box, so starting the thing was of little moment.
‘Twas keeping it going that would be the challenge. Why the hell
did it have to snow today? Why could it not have waited until the
morrow, after he’d had time to get enough firewood? ‘Twas all his
sister’s fault. All his bad luck had started with her, that night
that Branwenn had charged into Alyson’s chamber after hearing the
mewling, puling girl crying like a babe. And over what? If she’d
just given him what he’d wanted of her, he’d have had done with her
and then she’d not have received his fist. Tho’, truth be told, he
did enjoy the struggle. It made the winning much more
pleasurable.

But, his fortunes had changed for the worse
that night, and he’d not rest until he not only had his prize—the
land, and the bride he’d been promised—but he’d had his vengeance
on his sister and that Welsh troubadour she’d wed.

The trick would be to remain just far enough
behind the two that they would never guess he tracked them, but
close enough that he would not lose their trail.

* * *

Branwenn was just
descending the stairs when she heard a familiar male voice coming
from somewhere below say,
“Your wife told
me I’d find my sister here. May I see her?”

Reys!
He’d found her. She bit her lip and, very stealthily, took
another two steps down the stairs.

“
You mean, of
course,
my
sister, Branwenn?”
she heard Bao
reply.

“
May I see her?”

Branwenn silently took several more steps
down, her left hand skimming the cold stone of the curving wall and
her neck craning forward, trying to see around the last curve into
the antechamber just inside the entry of the keep.

All at once, she saw him. And Alyson, as
well, surprisingly. Had he wed her then, as he’d sworn to do? “I’m
here,” she called out and trotted down the last four stairsteps
into the antechamber. “Reys, ‘tis so good to see you,” she said,
though her heart pounded with both pleasure and dread. She would
have given him a kiss on the cheek in greeting, but had no desire
to hurt Bao with such a show of affection in his presence. So,
instead, she made a brief courtesy to Reys and then to his
companion, who shyly returned the gesture. “Lady Alyson, ‘tis so
good to see you again. You are looking lovely.” She darted a glance
at her brother-germane, before adding, “And quite content, as well.
That pleases me.”

Alyson’s cheeks pinkened, “My thanks, my
lady. And you are looking the same.”

Branwenn widened her smile. “You must surely
be parched and in need of a rest. Come into the great hall and
settle by the hearth. We will have some refreshment arranged for
you.”

Alyson’s eyes settled briefly on Reys before
turning once more to Branwenn. “My thanks, my lady.”

Bao’s eyes never left Reys’s countenance.
“Aye, Branwenn, settle the lass in the great hall for a time. Reys
and I have much to discuss, and I believe my brother, cousin and
uncle will want to meet with the man as well.”

Reys, who was now in less hurry to speak with
his sister, as it was plain that she was well and had survived the
shipwreck with no permanent damage, met Bao’s angry mien with a
cocked brow and a slight smirk. “I look forward to the discussion,
I assure you.”

The two ladies made a hasty retreat out of
the antechamber and when the room was at last left to only the two
men, Reys said, “Your wife also gave me the tidings that my sister
has been betrothed to your cousin, and without my consent. This,
I’m sure you understand, makes the contract void, as I and Prince
Llywelyn are her legal guardians.”

Bao, stood with his arms crossed over his
chest and his stance wide. “Aye, void the contract if you wish to
have a Highlander bastard born to your ward.”

Reys’s spine shot ramrod straight and, with
fisted hands, took a step toward Bao, “You allowed your cousin to
meddle with my sweet, innocent sister so that she’s now forced to
wed the cur?! I’ll kill the lot of you for this!”

Bao grinned at him. Relaxing his stance, he
said more calmly, “Good. You do care for my sister.” In a more
somber tone, he said, “Calm yourself, Reys. ‘Tis not like that at
all. ‘Tis a love match, you shall see.” He turned in the direction
of the entrance to the keep. “Come, let us meet in one of the guard
tower chambers, ‘twill have no likelihood of feminine ears
o’erhearing our talk. And there’s plenty of ale stashed there as
well.”

Reys eyed Bao suspiciously, but followed him
out. Was his sister carrying the Highlander cousin’s bastard, as
Bao had said? And if so, what would be the retribution meted out by
his princely cousin for such an offense? He’d still had plans for
using her as barter in his ongoing campaign to gain power and
ground in his native land. And part of that plan was to have
Branwenn back safe, still chaste and unwed, with her family in
Anglesea before word of her whereabouts reached Norman ears.

* * *

Several hours later, Callum, having spent
much of the morning hearing Reys’s side of the tale of Branwenn’s
hasty flight from her betrothal to the Norman, and then convincing
the man to accept Branwenn’s—and his own—desire to wed and allow
the match to take place, even without the Cambrian prince’s
knowledge, was in desperate need of some time alone with his love.
And this time, he’d not be thwarted, waylaid, or distracted from
that goal.

As he walked in the direction of the garden
in the north bailey where a maid had told him Branwenn could be
found, his thoughts turned once more to his earlier conversation
with Reys. He knew that, by making the match outside the knowledge
of her royal guardian, he was setting them up for war, but his
stepfather had backed him, saying that they’d gather every ally
they had and beat the army back, if the man wanted to fight. Even
William, King of Scots, no doubt, would send soldiers to join the
fray, as he owed Chalmers a favor, and Bao had been one of the
king’s best fighting men for years during his time at the court at
Perth.

But he hoped the prince would be pleased
enough with the bride price Callum would give for her to accept the
union without threatening siege. For, ‘twas a fortune in gold coins
accumulated and inherited and would leave him only with just enough
to begin building the manor he’d planned on that small tract of
land between the MacGregor and Grant land that had been the subject
of contention the two clans had nearly gone to war over. But, with
Lara’s ignoble death, Laird Grant had at last forfeited his claim
on the property that horrid night of Callum’s humiliating poisoning
by pig gong and Callum’s stepfather had signed the tract over to
Callum as a gift for his labor in bringing about a negotiation and
in being the means by which the two clans had settled their
disagreement.

* * *

Branwenn worried her lip with her teeth as
she stood with her head bowed staring blankly at the ground. “So
Prince Llywelyn is wanting to use me as a pawn in his
empire-building game of chess once again?” She turned to her
brother-germane and gave him a pleading look. “Can you not simply
return to Gwynedd and tell him that you did not find me? That you
believe I perished in the wreck?”

Reys sighed and shook his head, his eyes sad.
“No, I cannot. ‘Twas much too easy for me to track how you came to
be here in the Highlands—and that being three moons after the
wreck. ‘Tis no use, our princely cousin will find you out. And then
I will be hanged from a gibbet for my part in the deception. No,
‘tis better that you wed your Callum and we face the wrath of
Llywelyn straight on, as I, your brother, do have a bit more of a
say in whom you wed.” He looked away from her, scrubbing the back
of his neck with his hand and shaking his head. “‘Tis tricky, even
dangerous, but not completely traitorous.” Resting his gaze upon
her once more, he said, “And, with the generous bride price Callum
is expecting to bestow upon him, ‘twill lessen the sting
considerably. ‘Tis enough gold to fund many more campaigns against
the Normans, as well as the other Cambrian princes he battles
against in his pursuit of power and land.”

Branwenn walked over to the
bench and sat down, her hands clasped in her lap. “Was he
very
angry when you gave
him our plan the next morn? Was there violence?”

Reys smiled and settled on the bench beside
her. Taking her hand in his he lifted it and gave the back of it an
affectionate kiss. “No, ‘twas not as terrible as you imagine. In
fact, our cousin was pleased to settle me upon the lady Alyson
instead and have you far from Gaiallard’s clutches, once he was
informed of the man’s true nature.” He rested both of their hands
on his knee. “Whatever you may believe of our cousin, know you
this: He does not desire to have you wed to a beast, even for the
sake of building his empire.”

Branwenn nodded and looked away. After a
moment, she straightened and turned back to Reys, saying, “And the
lady Alyson? Do you think you may love her in time?” This, Branwenn
now realized more than ever before, was the key to a happy life,
and she wished it above all else for this brother of hers that had
sacrificed so much for her.

Reys shrugged. “I can—and
do—care for the girl. But love her as a man loves a woman?” It was
his turn to look away as he pondered the question. He shook his
head. “No, I confess, I see the girl as more of friend, almost as a
younger sibling. I cannot see myself ever feeling for her the love
I felt for my wife.” He turned back to her then, a sheepish look
upon his countenance. “Pardon, my
past
wife.”

Branwenn sat forward and clasped her hand a
bit tighter around his. “But, Reys, she is so lovely, so kind!
Surely, in time, after your grief is less acute, you will see her
differently. At least I pray so, for, if you desire an heir, you
will have to bed the lass to get one.”

Reys bristled. “Branwenn! Do not speak
of—”

“Nay, hear me, please. I know I should not
speak of such to you—or anyone—as it isn’t proper, but I have now
with Callum what you had with your past wife and all I want for you
is joy. I know that you believe lady Alyson is too young—and surely
not ready for such with you now in any case, with the horror she
was subjected to at her brother’s hands—but, in time, I hope that
you two can help to heal each other.” She gave him a sad smile.
“And, ‘tis wrong for you to begin this marriage thinking of the
lass as a sibling. ‘Twill surely only make it harder for you to
make that heir you crave with those thoughts flitting through your
mind the entire time.”