Read Just Beyond Tomorrow Online
Authors: Bertrice Small
Just Beyond Tomorrow (32 page)
Flanna arose slowly from her place, smiling at the look on her husband's face as he viewed her for the first time in several months. “Welcome to Brae, my lords,” she saluted them. “Ian, fetch wine for our guests and some sweets for the bairns.” She then held out her arms to the three children, who rushed to hug her.
“Aunt,” Sabrina said, “you are so . . . so . . .”
“Fat!”
Willy said.
Willy said.
Flanna laughed. “That is because I hae a bairn growing inside of me, Willy. When the bairn pops itself out, I shall be slender again.”
“When will the bairn be ready, aunt?” Freddie wondered.
“Soon,” Flanna told them. “Now, here is Aggie. Run to her, and she will show ye all of my wee Brae.” She turned to Patrick when the children had left them, and said, “Well, sir, what hae ye to say to me? Or will ye continue to persist in yer foolishness?”
“Will ye accept my apology, lass?” he replied simply, thinking now that he had begun, the words were not hard at all to say.
“If ye will admit to being a jealous fool, I may,” she responded.
“I love ye, Flanna. I lost both my temper and my wits when I saw another man admiring ye. Please forgie me, lass. I hae been miserable wi'out ye, and I want ye to come home,” Patrick Leslie told his wife honestly. She was, he realized, more important to him than his injured pride.
Her eyes filled with quick tears, which immediately spilled down her cheeks. “I forgie ye, Patrick, wi' all my heart, for how can I nae when I love ye so verra much?”
He put his arms about her and kissed the salty tears from her pale face. “Ye'll come back?”
“Of course I will,” she said, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. “Glenkirk's next duke should be born in his own home.”
“Ahem!”
The Marquis of Westleigh coughed discreetly.
The Marquis of Westleigh coughed discreetly.
The lovers broke apart, laughing, and the duke introduced his eldest brother to his wife.
“Ye're most welcome to Brae, sir, and to Scotland,” Flanna said, thinking that he was very handsome. She particularly admired his turquoise eyes.
“And I, madame, am most delighted to meet the lady who has brought my little brother to both his knees and his senses,” Henry Lindley teased her with a smile.
Flanna colored prettily, saying, “Now I hae met two of my husband's brothers. I am sorry I canna know yer mam.”
“She'll come back one day,” Henry promised her, “but come, madame, and sit down again. My wife has given me several children. I know what a woman needs at this point in her life, even if my dunderhead of a brother does not.” He led Flanna back to her chair and seated her. “Now, tell me, when is the heir or the heiress due to enter this world? I should like to remain for the event so I may report it directly to our mother, whom your husband has yet to inform of his marriage to you. I assume only Charlie knew.”
“Only because he came wi' his bairns last autumn,” Patrick answered his brother. “How am I to send a message to our mother in the midst of all this strife, Henry? Few come visiting to Glenkirk. Perhaps a rare peddler, or tinker, but could I trust such a person to bring a letter, and where? At least there is some traffic between England and France. 'Tis easier for ye than 'tis for me. I'll send a letter wi' ye when ye return to Cadby. Ye can get it to our mam, for ye hae been corresponding wi' her all along.”
Suddenly Flanna said quietly, “Why hae ye come to Glenkirk, my lord? And how did ye arrive unscathed? The little that we hear tells us that the English occupy Edinburgh, and that King Charles prepares to invade England and regain it. Why, then, are ye here? Should ye nae be wi' yer family?”
“I should,” Henry Lindley agreed with a smile, “but I am instead here. Our mother is afraid for Charlie's life. She wants him at Glenkirk and not with King Charles. As an Englishman, I cannot be seen in the company of Charles Stuart's army, nor his person, lest I be accused of being a traitor to the current government. Patrick, however, can.”
Ian More brought the gentlemen wine, and when he had served them, he handed Flanna a goblet of spring water which she now favored.
“Ye're an Englishman, sir, and yet ye canna be seen wi' yer king? I dinna understand,” Flanna said, and then she took a sip from her goblet. “Do ye nae want yer king back, sir?”
“Cromwell is too strong, and the king not yet strong enough,” Henry began his explanation. “The king has been told that those of us who support him, who are called Royalists, will rise up to champion him when he comes to England. It is not so, Flanna. The king's adherents in England have survived by remaining silent and invisible. We will continue to do so because the time is not right for the restoration of our monarchy. I do not know when that time will be. In the meantime, it would be foolish of us to lose our homes and everything we hold dear, or to beggar our families and endanger our friends by imprudent conduct. There are those who do not agree with me, but believe me, they are in a minority. I will support a legitimate government, but I will not lose my ancestral home, nor everything my family cherishes, in the cause of an absent king. I cannot.
“Our mother has written of her fears for Charlie. She appreciates his loyalty to the royal Stuarts, but she does not want to lose him in this quest of the king's. I lied to the authorities in order to obtain a pass to reach Glenkirk from England. Now Patrick must go to wherever the king has his encampment and make our brother see reason. Charlie must return to Glenkirk and his children. If the Parliamentary forces catch him with the king, they will execute him.”
“I dinna think Charlie will leave his cousin,” Flanna said slowly. “His loyalty to the king is great. So great he was able to dissuade me from my wifely duties, and I attempted to join the king's battle myself. He will nae come. But if he does nae come, then that is his decision, for he is a man grown. However, since his mam wishes it, Patrick must go to find Charlie and attempt to turn his heart. If she had known he was wed, and expecting a bairn, I dinna think she would hae asked such a thing of him; but she dinna know, and so he must go.”
They were both astounded by her words. The brothers had expected Flanna to weep and cry. They had expected shrieking, and screaming, and all manner of womanly tactics. Instead, they had been given reluctant logic. She understood. She did not like it,
but she understood.
but she understood.
The Marquis of Westleigh arose and took his sister-in-law's two hands in his. He kissed them. “Madame,” he said, “you are the most sensible female I have ever encountered. I salute you!”
Flanna looked up at him with a serious demeanor, withdrawing her hands from his. “I am nae pleased by this situation,” she said, “but I understand the importance of family, Henry.” She turned to look at her husband. “When will ye go?” she asked him.
“Fairly soon,” he said, and his green-gold eyes were filled with his love and admiration for her.
“Then, we hae best return to Glenkirk in the morning. I am at the point, I fear, where I must travel slowly, my lords. It will take us the day. If ye wish to leave me now, Patrick, and depart in the morning, ye hae my permission. Yer brother will escort me in safety.”
“Nay,” he quickly answered her. “I will remain the night wi' ye and take ye home myself tomorrow. I will leave the day after.”
“If the children have had their curiosity satisfied,” Henry said, “I shall return with them to Glenkirk today. Your man, Ian, can ride with us. I'll send back a cart and an escort for Flanna on the morrow, brother. Ye hae been separated and now are to be separated again. I know if it were me, I should like an evening alone with my wife.”
Flanna smiled at him. “Ye're a tactful man, sir,” she said.
The three Stuart children were gathered up along with Ian. It was decided that Aggie would depart, too, and she ran to fetch her belongings.
“We hae to eat,” the duke murmured to his wife.
“The supper is in the kitchen,” Flanna said. “I will serve ye myself. I dinna grow up being waited upon hand and foot, although I will admit to enjoying it,” she chuckled.
The children came to protest, but Flanna waved them away.
“Now, bairns,” she told the trio, “I'll be home tomorrow. Yer uncle and I hae nae seen each other in months. We want to spend a wee bit of time alone. Besides, I hae nae beds for ye to sleep in, and 'twould be a bit rough for ye. Willy is too young for it.”
They departed reluctantly as Patrick and Flanna stood in the gates of Brae, waving them off.
“I remember the first day I set foot here,” he told her. “Ye shot at me wi' yer bow and arrows. I think I loved ye then, though I knew it nae.” His arm rested lightly about her shoulders.
“Is that why ye tied me up and brought me back to my da on yer saddle?” she teased him. “Come, and help me close the gates now.”
“ 'Tis too much for ye, lassie,” he said.
Flanna threw him an exasperated look. “Patrick,” she said, “I close these gates every evening by myself. It requires little but pushing, and Ian puts the bar across. Ye can do that for me.”
“Even when the clansmen were working here ye closed the gates?” he inquired of her.
“Aye, I did. I fear no man, but I dinna want a badger in my pantry, ye understand,” she explained. “When we arrived, we couldna get into the kitchen for a week for a wildcat hae her litter there. Fortunately she soon moved them.”
He nodded. Then he lifted the big oak bar and set it into its place across the two great gates.
“Come along,” she said briskly. “We'll eat in the kitchen. I'm nae of a mind to traipse up and down the stairs in my condition.” She led him around the courtyard, through a small garden, and down a narrow flight of steps into the warm kitchen.
The room was neat, swept, and clean. A fire burned in the hearth where a lidded iron pot bubbled noisily over the flames. There was the scent of fresh bread baking. In the center of the room was a well-scrubbed oak table. The duke sat down while his duchess opened a cupboard and brought forth two pewter plates and mugs which she put upon the table. One set before him, and the other to his right. From a basket on the cupboard shelf, she pulled out two carved wooden spoons she added to the place settings. He watched her, fascinated. Patrick Leslie didn't ever recall having seen his mother in a kitchen.
Flanna went to the fireplace and, opening a little iron door to one side of it, peered in. Apparently satisfied, she shoved a wooden paddle into the oven and drew out a loaf of bread which she put, paddle, pan, and all, upon the table. Disappearing into the buttery, she soon returned with a little tub of butter and a half wheel of hard yellow cheese. These she set upon the table. She gathered up the plates from the table and went to the hearth. Using a two-tined toasting fork, she lifted the lid from the bubbling kettle. A plume of steam arose from the pot. Flanna smiled, and placing one of the plates on the floor, she dipped a spoon she had drawn from her pocket into the pot and filled the plate. Then, placing it before her husband, she returned to fill the second plate for herself. Sitting down at the table, she upended the bread pan, freeing the loaf, and cut two chunks of bread for them, shoving one at him. “Eat!” she instructed him.
Patrick dipped his spoon into his plate. The aroma of a rabbit stew assailed his nostrils. He realized how hungry he was as he began to eat. The stew had a fine brown gravy. It was filled with carrots and small onions. The meat was tender.
“Damn!” Flanna muttered irritably.
“What's the matter?” he asked her.
“The wine is on the high board in the hall,” she said.
“There must be something down here,” he replied.
“There's a keg of ale,” she admitted.
“Where?” he queried.
“In the pantry,” she told him.
He gathered up their mugs and went into the pantry, returning a moment later with two mugs of the foaming ale. “I like ale wi' my stew,” he told her. “It makes the game tastier, lass.” Then he grinned at her. “ 'Tis a cozy supper we're haeing, Flanna Leslie. We must see that Henry returns to England wi' some of our fine whiskey. 'Twill travel better than salmon or haggis,” Patrick said. He sliced two large pieces of cheese and offered her one.
“Aye. 'Twas most politic of him to leave us alone, although we surely canna play our lover's games wi' my great belly,” Flanna responded. “Still, I will enjoy feeling yer bulk next to me tonight, Patrick. I hae missed ye. Why could ye nae come and apologize sooner?”
“Would ye hae forgiven me sooner?” he asked her.
“Aye,” she drawled slowly. Her silver eyes met his, and he knew it to be so.
“Then, I am, indeed, a fool, Flanna,” he told her softly.
“Aye,” she agreed readily, mopping up the gravy on her plate with a piece of bread and eating it.
He laughed. “Ye're a brave lass considering yer girth. Ye canna outrun me now,” he teased her.
Other books
Weep for Me by John D. MacDonald
La muerte llega a Pemberley by P. D. James
House Call (Hideaway) by Scott, Elyse
The Beggar Maid by Alice Munro
Cordimancy by Hardman, Daniel
Sweet Surrender (The Dysarts) by Catherine George
After the Before by Gomez, Jessica
In the Air Tonight by Lori Handeland
