Just Beyond Tomorrow (19 page)

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Authors: Bertrice Small

BOOK: Just Beyond Tomorrow
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God's boots, she was clever, Fingal thought as they rode along. Each step their horses took moved them farther away from the castle and along the path his aunt wished to follow. Fingal moved his mount ahead in order to make certain they did not catch up with the Duke of Lundy. They just needed to keep him barely in sight while keeping their own presence hidden until Flanna deemed it otherwise. He could hear the drone of her voice as she made her case. Fingal wondered if the young man-at-arms could be seduced into letting his aunt have her way, or if he would turn about and ride back to Glenkirk.
“I want to help our king,” Flanna explained to Ian earnestly. “I want to raise troops for him and bring honor to the Leslies of Glenkirk. My husband, however, mourns his father deeply and holds the king—well, nae exactly the king himself, but the king's situation—responsible for his da's death. Now, Mary has told me that the Duchess Jasmine begged the old duke nae to go, but he wouldna listen to her. The king's problems are nae responsible for Duke Jemmie's death. His decision to ignore all the good advice he was given, and go nonetheless, caused his death.”
“They do say, my lady,” Ian said, “that the Stuarts bring bad fortune to the Leslies of Glenkirk.”
“ 'Tis nonsense!” Flanna declared. “The Leslies of Glenkirk were simple lairds until a Stuart king made them earls. And another Stuart king gave them the dukedom. Would they hae been luckier if they had remained lairds?”
“I dinna know,” he answered her, feeling a bit confused.
Flanna laughed. “Nor do I,” she said. “Ian, ye must know I would bring nae dishonor upon my husband, but I want to help our king. What right hae the Sassenachs to kill old King Charles? He was a king of Scotland as well as England. He was born in Scotland, yet they murdered him wi'out so much as a by yer leave,” Flanna pleaded her case. “The duke of Lundy can gie me an introduction to the king. I will ask his permission to raise troops, and if he says nae, then I won't. We'll travel together until 'tis too late for Charlie to send me right back. Then we'll reveal ourselves. As soon as I meet the king, I'll come home. I swear it on my honor as a Duchess of Glenkirk! Hae ye ever seen the portraits of the past ladies of Glenkirk? They were all women of strength and purpose. I dinna want to shame my husband by being known to my descendants as the do-naught duchess. I want to do my part, and if ye help me, yer name will go down wi' mine.”
“Angus will kill me,” Ian said nervously, but Flanna could tell she was convincing him.
“Angus is an old dear. He's like all loyal dogs; he growls at what he perceives to be a threat to his mistress. He will nae growl at ye, I promise, for 'tis ye who will keep me safe. Did I nae choose ye myself to be my guardian?” She gave him a small smile of encouragement.
Ahead of them Fingal Brodie heard it all and almost laughed aloud. He had known Flanna his whole life, and did his mother not always say the wench was the most devious she had ever known when she wanted something she should not have. He chuckled to himself. He had been concerned that the duke would hold him responsible for Flanna's behavior, but if Flanna would protect the likes of simple Ian More from Angus, Fingal Brodie would have no fear of the Duke of Glenkirk. He would take a leaf from his auntie's book and play the innocent. And he would make use of the opportunities given him, and one day he would be someone.
Ian did not agree to his mistress's adventure, but neither did he return to expose her. He wasn't quite certain she was really doing the right thing, but he also didn't believe he could stop her. She was a very determined young woman, and he could lose his place at the castle if he angered her. That she would protect him if he cooperated with her, he had absolutely no doubt. He could see his duchess was far more formidable than his duke. Better he remain with her and protect her from any dangers she might encounter along their way.
The day was cold; but it was dry, and no wind blew to add to their general discomfort. They plodded along through forest and field, keeping the Duke of Lundy and his party just barely in sight. They didn't want to appear that they were following Charlie Stuart. Finally it began to grow dark, and Flanna wondered if they would have to overnight in the open. They had stopped briefly only once since leaving Glenkirk, and the horses were tired. They lost sight of their quarry as Charlie and his men went over a hill. Flanna sent her nephew on ahead to scout.
When Fingal returned, he told his aunt, “There is a small inn up a ways. 'Tis too small for both parties, and besides, 'tis too soon for yer brother-in-law to know ye're following him. I dinna know what we will do, Flanna. We canna remain in the open, and the horses need shelter and to be fed.”
Flanna turned to Ian. “Would the Duke of Lundy know ye?” she asked, and when he shook his head in the negative, she said, “Take off yer badge of service to the Leslies and hide it in yer pocket. Ye can ask for shelter in the stables for us and our horses. Nae one will see I'm a woman, for I am dressed like a lad, and I shall nae come into the inn. Just tell the innkeeper that ye and yer brothers are traveling south and need shelter for the night. Gie him these few coppers. He'll agree. Then remain to obtain our supper. Fingal will help me wi' the horses.”
They reached the rustic inn and dismounted. Flanna led the three mounts into the stables while Ian went into the inn. The stables were clean and warm. The stalls were well swept and filled with fresh hay. Charlie Stuart's horses were already settled for the night. Flanna led each of the animals into an empty stall at the rear of the building, leaving one empty stall for them to use for themselves. She and Fingal unsaddled the beasts and, fetching the water bucket, gave them each a small drink. Too much and the horses would bloat, but a little would not hurt them. Then she filled the mangers with feed. Fingal helped her, brushing the horses down and checking their hooves for stones. By the time they had finished, Ian More returned with their supper.
“Innkeeper was happy we were willing to shelter in the stables,” he said. “Yer brother-in-law and his party hae filled his wee inn to overflowing. His wife and daughters are cooking for more than they ever hae.” He chuckled. “I've fresh bread, rabbit, cheese, and a draught of cider for us.” He set it all out upon a narrow bench.
They ate quickly before their food cooled, and then set a schedule of watch for the night. Flanna would watch first, then Fingal, and finally Ian, who would awaken them when the duke's men came to get their own horses to depart. Her two companions wrapped themselves in their cloaks and were quickly snoring. Flanna sat, her back against the stall, considering that the day had gone very well. Patrick would think she was at her father's. Ian had not betrayed her, and Charlie had not realized he was being followed.
She could see the moon shining through the stable window. She had never before attempted such an adventure. Strangely she was not afraid. Rather, she felt exhilarated and excited by the prospect of meeting the king. Would he think her foolish, a woman, offering to raise troops for his restoration? She hoped not. Patrick was going to be very angry with her as it was, but if the king laughed at her, it would be awful.
She tensed as the door to the stable opened, and two of Charlie's escorts entered, but they had only come to check the horses. They didn't bother to even come to the back of the stables where Flanna and her party lay. They probably didn't even consider the other travelers, for which she was grateful. She could see by their badges that both men were Glenkirk men. She learned from them, however, that it was just about midnight. When they departed the stables, she awakened Fingal, telling him, “When the moon shines through the other window, awaken Ian.”
“Aye,” the boy said, stumbling to his feet.
Flanna pulled her cloak around her and settled down into a pile of sweet-smelling hay to sleep as best she could. It seemed as if she hadn't slept at all when Fingal was shaking her awake. Outside the sky was still dark, and the moon not yet set. She looked questioningly at her nephew.
“Ian says the inn is up. He has gone to fetch us something to eat. He says he's certain the others will be ready to leave shortly.”
Flanna stretched, and then with a sigh sat up. “Go watch,” she told him. “I hae to pee.” Fingal went to stand by the stable doors while Flanna lowered her breeches and relieved herself in the straw in a corner of the stall. She was just readjusting her garments when Ian returned.
“I hae porridge,” he said by way of greeting her. Then he handed her a small trencher of bread filled with the cereal and a wood spoon. “I hae cheese, too, and cider.”
“The duke is awake and preparing to leave?” she asked him.
“Aye, they are eating now, my lady,” Ian told her.
“Then, we hae best hurry ourselves,” Flanna said. “If they come to the stables to get the horses, keep yer back to them, and dinna speak unless spoken to, else they recognize ye. I shall duck down where I canna be seen.”
“The Glenkirk men wi' the duke are nae men who would know me,” Ian assured his mistress.
They ate, and when the duke's men came to fetch their own animals, they but nodded to Ian and Fingal as they saddled their mounts and led them outside into the cold morning air. When they had closed the doors to the stables, Flanna and her party quickly prepared their own horses, then watched by the doors for the duke's party to leave. After they had, the trio from Glenkirk carefully followed, keeping just from sight as they had the previous day.
They trailed their quarry in this manner for the next four days, grateful that the weather remained dry, noting that each night as they grew closer to Perth, the inns grew larger and the number of people upon the road more. It seemed that quite a few Scotsmen and women were going to see the king crowned. Finally in mid-afternoon of the fifth day, they reached the fair city of Perth.
Standing on Kinnoul Hill, Flanna stared below in amazement at the first town she had ever seen. Her two companions were equally openmouthed. There on the plain below, set on the banks of the Tay, was Perth with its clustered streets, houses, and churches. The river wound like a silver ribbon in the afternoon sunlight as it moved beneath the town's stone bridges, across the snowy fields on the town's edge, and into the thick woods beyond. All around them they could see through the winter haze the hills and mountains beyond. A Highland wind blew its gentle icy breath across the landscape.
“We must nae linger, lady,” Ian warned. “We'll lose the duke in this gathering, and ye need to know where he means to lay his head tonight, do ye nae?” He tugged at her horse's bridle to urge it forward.
“Aye,” she agreed. “I should nae like to be lost in this place. I dinna know how we would ever find Charlie here.”
They followed the Duke of Lundy and his companions down into the town and through the narrow, twisting streets until they came to a large inn. Outside hung a colorful sign, a purple thistle topped with a gold crown, indicating that the inn's name was the Crown and Thistle. Flanna could see her brother-in-law quite clearly, and as he dismounted, she quickly moved her horse up next to him. Looking down upon him, she said, “Good day to ye, then, Charlie, the nae-so-royal Stuart.”
The voice was familiar, but of course it couldn't be. Charlie looked up. His jaw dropped first with surprise, and then with shock. “Jesu, Flanna!” he said. “What the hell are you doing here, and where is your husband?”
Chapter
9
F
lanna smiled nervously at her brother-in-law. “At Glenkirk, I expect,” she answered him as she slid from her horse to stand before him. “I came alone wi' my nephew, Fingal, and my man-at-arms, Ian More.”
“How did you get here?” he demanded. What the hell was happening? Patrick must be frantic.
“We followed ye,” Flanna said as if the whole thing were really quite obvious. “We've been following ye since ye left Glenkirk.”
“Why?”
Charlie could feel the blood pounding in his head. She had followed them. She made it sound so damned simple.
“I want to help the king,” Flanna said earnestly. “Ye said, Charlie, that he needs men to fight. I want to help raise a levy for yer cousin. Patrick is just being silly when he natters about curses and bad fortune. If my husband willna bring new glory to the Leslies of Glenkirk, then I will!”
I need a drink,
Charlie considered.
Whiskey. Strong and smoky. Lots of whiskey!
His brother was going to kill him when he learned that Charlie's loyalty to his Stuart family had inspired this adorable and naïve sister-in-law of his to a burst of patriotic fervor. “We had best go inside, Flanna,” he said. “Your companions can remain with my escort. Half of them are Glenkirk men. They can escort you home when they return.” He took her firmly by the arm and led her inside.
The landlord greeted them effusively. “I hae yer rooms set aside, my lord,” he said, bowing and bobbing.
“My sister-in-law, the Duchess of Glenkirk, has joined me unexpectedly,” Charlie explained to his host. “Can you accommodate her?”
“Ohh, my lord, I am sorry, but wi' the king's crowning tomorrow, we are filled to the brim wi' guests. Ye're apartments hae a wee room for a servant off the dayroom. Her Grace will hae to share wi' ye, I fear.”
Charlie nodded graciously. “I understand,” he said. “Will you bring us supper as soon as you can? Her ladyship has not eaten since early this morning,” Charlie remarked dryly.
“More than anything,” Flanna spoke up, “I should like a hot bath. I hae been cold for five days. Is such a thing possible?”
“Of course, my lady,” the innkeeper said. “I'll hae the tub and water brought immediately. Annie!” he called to his daughter. “Take the duke and her ladyship to their apartments at once.”
The innkeeper's daughter bobbed a curtsy to Charlie and Flanna and then hurried off as they followed. She led them down a narrow hallway and at its end flung open a heavy oak door. “There's a dayroom, and through here a bedchamber,” she said, “and we hae a small room for yer ladyship's maid.” She curtsied again and then moved across the room to light the fire that had been laid in the fireplace, then departed.
Charlie looked into the tiny chamber. There was a cloth-covered straw pallet and nothing else. He grimaced, but it would have to do.
“I'll sleep there,” Flanna offered.
Charlie sighed. “Nay. I can hear my mother if I took you up on your offer, which I really ought to considering your behavior,” he said. “But nay, sister, you will have the bedchamber until I send you back to your husband.”
“Ohh, Charlie,” Flanna begged him, “dinna be angry wi' me, and dinna make me go back until I hae met the king. And certainly nae on the morrow, for is he nae to be crowned tomorrow?”
“Patrick is going to be furious,” he began.
“He probably hae nae missed me yet,” she told him with a small smile. “I'll be halfway back to Glenkirk before he does. Ohh, Charlie! Hae ye nae seen the portraits at Glenkirk? The Duchess Jasmine and all the others? Who am I beside them? They were women of family and wealth. I want to make my mark as they did.”
“Come sit by the fire,” he invited her. “You still look chilled.”
“I never knew it could be so cold,” she admitted.
“You never rode five days in winter weather. Praise God it didn't snow or rain on us.” Charlie chuckled. “Now tell me, Flanna, what this is all about? What does your behavior have to do with my mother and the women who came before her?”
“They were wealthy,” Flanna began. “Heiresses! They came from great families. They were women of action who brought luster to the Leslies of Glenkirk.”
“And one day you will, too, in your own way, even as did they,” he reassured her.
“I was nae rich,” she said.
“You had Brae, and Patrick wanted it. It was a fair bargain, and many marriages have been made for less,” Charlie said.
“My family is nae a great one. Yer mam was a princess.”
“And my great-grandmother a Grey of Greyhaven. They were a simple family without great wealth, Flanna. Just like the Brodies of Killiecairn. And remember, your mother was a Gordon of Brae. There is nothing wrong with either your pedigree or your dower portion.”
“I will nae be known as the do-naught duchess,” she said.
Charlie laughed. “You have been wed to my brother for only a few months, Flanna. Can you not wait a while before you set out to conquer the world for Glenkirk?”
“How can ye understand?” she said despairingly. “ 'Tis true ye're bastard-born, but ye're a royal bastard. And yer mam was born a princess. Ye've been surrounded by power, wealth, and privilege yer whole life. I hae nae been. What seems ordinary to ye is nae to me. I see the things yer mam and the others accomplished. They brought nae just wealth to the Leslies of Glenkirk, but accomplishments that added luster to the family. How can I compete, especially in this time and place? If I dinna take the chance to do something now, I will nae hae a chance again. I will go back to Glenkirk and wi' God's blessing produce another generation for Glenkirk, but do nae else.”
“Are the bairns not enough?” Charlie asked her softly, reaching out to take her hand in his.
Flanna shook her head sadly. “Nae, Charlie, not for me. Any bitch can breed up a litter. I would be more!”
“I don't believe my brother will let you raise up a levy for the king,” Charlie said, and he kissed his sister-in-law's hand. “But I know that my royal cousin would appreciate the sentiment, Flanna.”
“I can do it, Charlie! I can!”
Flanna said. “Just dinna send me away before I meet the king.”
“I have to send you back, Flanna,” he said. “I love my brother, and I would have no cause for dissension between us. Now that I know you have followed me, I must return you as quickly as possible, but it is too late for you to go today. And tomorrow the king will be crowned, and I will have no time to see you safely off. So, little sister, you will have a wee bit of time here in Perth amid the celebration of the king's crowning. That will be something to tell your bairns one day, eh?” He smiled at her, releasing her hand.
“I want to meet the king, Charlie,” Flanna said. “I will nae go home until I do. If ye try to force me, I shall only run away, and then what will ye tell Patrick?”
“Flanna, understand that those who are the king's keepers here in Scotland have done their best to drive away his English friends and supporters. They believe we are a bad influence upon him, and to be truthful with you, some are. These Scots are hard, narrow-minded men whose lust for power is every bit as much as the king's English adherents'. Even I, who have avoided politics my entire life, am considered suspect.”
“But why?” she asked him.
“There was a time here in Scotland when being a royal bastard was not considered shameful. To bear a royal Stuart on either side of the blanket was thought an accomplishment by many families. It is not so now here in Scotland. I am Prince Henry Stuart's bastard; but not only that, my mother is deemed a foreigner whose legitimate birth is believed suspect, too. That I am the Duke of Lundy, a widower with children who has never dabbled in the government, but rather kept to his own affairs, is not accounted. I am a bastard Stuart, an Englishman, and therefore a bad influence.”
“But ye can still get to the king,” Flanna insisted. “Ye are his cousin, and he loves ye.”
“I will go to Scone tomorrow, and stand in the church there, and hope to catch his eye like so many others so he will know he is not alone and without his friends,” Charlie replied. “I will go to the banquet afterward, and if I am lucky I will be able to get past his keepers for a moment to speak to him; but that is the best that even I can hope for, Flanna.”
“Nay,” she said firmly. “Ye are his cousin, and ye're clever, Charlie, and I know ye can do more. Take me to Scone and introduce me to the king so I may swear my fealty to him! You shall nae get me to go home until I do!”
God's boots!
Charlie thought to himself. She was surely the most stubborn woman he had ever met in all his life. His mother was determined, too, but she could be reasoned with. Flanna could not. However, before he might argue with her further, there was a knock at the door, and Annie reappeared.
“Here's the lady's bath, my lord,” she said, struggling into the room with a round wooden tub, followed by several young men carrying buckets of steaming water. She set the oak container by the now warm fire and directed the serving men to empty their buckets. After several trips the tub was full. “Shall I remain and help ye?” she asked Flanna.
“Aye, remain and help her ladyship,” Charlie quickly answered for his sister-in-law. “Flanna, I shall be in the taproom. Have your bath, and then we shall eat here. Annie will come and fetch me.” He quickly followed the serving men from the room.
“Coward!” Flanna called offer him.
Charlie laughed. “ 'Tis a wise man who knows when to give up the battle, lassie,” he called over his shoulder.
The door was firmly closed behind him. “Is he yer husband, then?” Annie asked Flanna.
“He is my brother-in-law,” Flanna said.
“Is he yer lover?” the innkeeper's daughter queried, curious.
“Nay!”
Flanna denied. “What kind of thought is that for a decent lass to hae?” She looked so genuinely shocked that Annie believed her.
“Begging yer pardon, my lady. I meant no offense,” the girl quickly apologized. “Dinna tell my father I asked.”
“My husband recently lost his father in defense of the king's da. While he respects the king, he will nae offer him any aid. I followed my brother-in-law in order to promise the king that I will raise a levy in his honor.”
“Oh,” said Annie, who really didn't understand the ways of the gentry. “Hae ye scent for the bath?” she asked Flanna.
Flanna gave a short bark of laughter. “I hae a change of clothing and nae more than that,” she said. “My husband dinna know that I was coming to Perth.”
“He would hae forbid ye, then,” Annie said, and then she nodded. “Ye were wise nae to tell him, lady. Sometimes 'tis better that way. I know my mother doesna always tell Da what she is about. Here, and I'll help ye off wi' yer boots.” She knelt.
Flanna was quickly divested of her footwear and her garments by the industrious Annie, who clucked with distress over the condition of the lady's clothing. “I'll take yer boots to be cleaned, and if ye can wash yerself, I'll take the rest to be laundered.”
“Just brush my breeches,” Flanna instructed. “If ye wash them, they'll take a week to dry in this weather. I hae to return home in a day or two, Annie. I thank ye for the rest.”
Annie curtsied and gathered up the boots and clothing. Then she bustled out the door, shutting it firmly behind her. Flanna sighed with pleasure as the heat from the water permeated her bones. She had seriously never thought to be warm again. She undid her thick plait and pinned it atop her head. The serving girl had left a tiny sliver of soap on the tub's rim. Reaching for it, Flanna dipped it in the water and lathered it between her hands. The faint, elusive fragrance of heather touched her nostrils, and she smiled as taking up the small flannel cloth Annie had left her she began to wash. The water felt good upon her face as she cleaned the grime of the road away. Then her neck and ears. Her arms, her chest. Leaning back, she raised a leg from the water, sweeping the soapy cloth over it and her foot. Rinsing, she lifted her other leg and was busily repeating her previous actions when the door to the room banged open.
Flanna gasped, her leg splashing back into the tub. She clutched the wet cloth to her chest, eyes wide at the tall, dark-haired man with the equally surprised look upon his face.
“ 'sblood!” the gentleman exclaimed, and then he smiled. “By God, sweetheart, you are surely a sight for these eyes of mine!”
Flanna began to shriek at the top of her lungs at the intruder.
“Get out! Get out!”
“Oh, my lady, I am so sorry!” Annie was there. “It was that dolt-headed boy in the kitchen!” She turned to the intruder. “Sir, if ye will come this way. The Duke of Lundy is in the taproom.”

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