Passion and Plaid - Her Highland Hero (Scottish Historical Romance) (17 page)

Kenna tried very hard to reply and play the part
of a supplicant wife, because she knew that’s what he wanted. And she knew that
what the mayor wanted was the smartest thing to do, but all she managed was to
nod, look at him, and try to smile as sweetly as she could.

“Good,” he said. She noticed that he never took
his eyes off the field in front of them, off the increasing crowd of people
milling about. “Something’s bothering me about this. Don’t you see how many
kilts there are? That fellow in woad...there’s something curious about him.
Something not right.”

“Oh, no, Councillor,” Rollo said quickly. “He must
be from Edinburgh or somewhere farther afield. I don’t recognize him, but isn’t
that a wonderful costume? That plaid isn’t any I’ve ever seen. Certainly not
from a nearby clan. And at any rate, he’s painted blue. Hard to be subtle with
your dissent when one is half-naked and painted blue.”

“Sinful,” the mayor said in a whisper. “Such
immodesty.”

“Ach, Willard, it’s just a costume, no? He’s
probably a perfectly decent man when he’s about the town.” Kenna pulled on his
arms but he didn’t respond. The mayor instead fixated on the drunk wandering
about the grounds.

Ignoring Kenna completely, he turned to Rollo. “That
really does cause me a great deal of irritation. So brazen. Why do we have to
continually have all sorts of ingrates from the city in our village?”

“Think of all the things they buy, Mayor, and all
the money he’ll spend at Duggan’s inn, or wherever he’s staying. No matter what
sort of costume he wears, or from where he came, he’s bringing money to our
little town,” Rollo responded.

Willard seemed to accept that explanation, or lose
interest. Either way the result was the same. Kenna breathed a relieved sigh.
She was able to catch one more glimpse of Gavin as he descended the far hill
that hid him from her. As he did, she thought she saw him turn around, maybe
look back in her direction, but she knew that was impossible. So far away, she
was only barely able to make him out with the help of a spyglass.

But she could always hope. Always and forever, she
could pray and imagine that he saw her, that he knew she was there, looking
back at him.

All she could do was hope.

F
estival Grounds

August 19, Noon

Try as she might, for the rest of the morning,
Kenna simply could not find Gavin among the growing crowd.

And grow it did. From the early morning until the
sun was high in the sky and the smoke from Willard’s ever-burning fires was
swept away by breeze and the cool of the morning replaced with warmth. The
smell of grass struck Kenna’s nose, followed by the scent of earth, and
roasting meats, corn, turnips, haggis pies and everything else she loved. Aside
from all that, every time the east-west breeze picked up a little, it brought
the fragrant sweetness of the blooming thistle flowers from the hills on either
side of the valley.

There were a few fights, both of which got Mayor
Willard’s feathers in a ruffle. Someone would shout at someone else, Willard
would remark upon the moral weakness that came with drinking too much, then
make some offhanded comment about the generally pitiful state of Scotland’s
men, and many of its women, and then instruct the village’s guards to carry off
whoever it was that had the misfortune of crossing the mayor.

No one was hurt in the fights, and indeed as Kenna
watched one unfold, they seemed not to be fights at all – not the vicious sort
meant to settle differences – but just a sort of friendly duel, a show of
martial talent. Of course, all Willard saw in them were drunken Scots
exhibiting their slovenliness.

The crowd swelled as the sun hit the middle of the
sky, and Kenna began to wonder when exactly the announcement was to be made of
her impending wedding and the mayor’s move to Jamaica. She thought that probably
at least one of those announcements would be met with a great deal of public
support, but probably not for the reason the mayor thought.

But, the beginning of the festival came and went
without a mention of it, or of much anything else.

“Is something bothering you, Willard?” Kenna asked
when she looked over and saw Willard tugging on the cuff of his glove, pulling
it tighter on his hand. He waved dismissively and summoned Rollo.

“When is this unpleasant charade going to begin?”

“It should be any moment, mayor. I think the only
thing upon which we are waiting is a judge for the fencing contest and a few of
the competitors to assemble.”

The mayor grunted in response.

“Have you considered the timing of your
announcement? I’m sure the townspeople would like to celebrate what you’ve got
to tell them.”

“No,” Willard said. “Later. Maybe not at all.”

“As you say, sir.”

“As I say, yes,” Willard’s eyes took on a slightly
dreamy, distant quality. He was staring at the competitors who had gathered
into a clump in the middle of the field below them. “As I say. Kenna?”

“Yes?”

“Do you know any of them?”

“If I’m being honest, I dinna know any of them,
though I’ve been looking for Gavin. I’m beginning to worry that he willna make
it, or that he thought you were trying to trap him. He has survived as long as
he has being careful, after all.”

“Yes, I assume so. Why would he worry that I would
trap him? Would he have any reason to believe that?”

“I – ach, no. I dinna know why he would. I’m just
worried that’s what’s on his mind is all.”

“I see,” he said as he turned his head to Rollo
and the two exchanged a glance. “I hope the same. I’ve heard that his merry
band has a few men who excel in certain things. He’s got a knife fighter and a
fencer with him? Perhaps we should have had a contest to see who could be the
most obnoxious thug.”

Rollo shifted his weight from one foot to the
other, and smoothed the front of his coat, and then straightened a button. The mayor
still stood, absolutely still, so tall and lean that his appearance neared that
of a thin tree standing apart from a forest.

“If you see them, Kenna, you’d do well to tell me.
I want to point out our guests and show them the utmost hospitality. Don’t
think of me as a villain.” He turned to her and took a step nearer. “I seem to
have left you with the wrong impression. At least, that’s what I gather from
the tightness in your voice. I don’t want you to feel like you’re being forced
into this. You should be happy that I’m helping to keep you pure and decent
instead of allowing your descent into filth.”

His every word stung Kenna like a slap in the
face. She didn’t answer for a moment, instead preferring to summon every ounce
of self-control she had to keep from jumping over the railing in front of her
and running until she found Gavin.

“Where’s Sheriff Alan?” She asked to keep her
tongue moving amicably, to keep from getting in trouble. “I haven’t seen him
and you said he was staying in the estate.”

“Ah yes, him. He’s doing some work for me. You’ll
be pleased to know that I kept him as far from your chambers as I could without
having him stay in the stables. I know of his prurient desires for you. He made
some rather lewd comments.”

For that, at least, she was grateful to the mayor.
She reminded herself that everyone she spoke with said Willard was just a good
man who lost his way.

So, she contented herself with just saying “thank
you” and returning to the search for Gavin.

“Ah!” Rollo said, stepping forward to the rail.
“Look there. It seems as though our judge has arrived.”

A ripple of activity crept first through the
milieu standing around on the contest grounds. Quickly the excitement spread to
those seated in the stands, and even the guards positioned about the grounds
began to cheer quietly. They looked over to the mayor, saw him nonreactive, and
joined in the growing roar from the rest of the audience. In all the noise and
clamor, Kenna too found herself getting excited, even though she’d not managed
to find Gavin.

Rollo stepped close and whispered, “That’s
certainly an oddly dressed gentleman to come to a fencing contest, don’t you
think?”

She squinted for a moment before Rollo tapped her
on the shoulder and pointed at the spyglass in her lap.

“Ach!” The instant she looked through the eyepiece
and saw Rodrigo’s unmistakably serious face, made even more out of place by the
tremendously uncomfortable looking waistcoat and powdered wig he wore, Kenna
couldn’t help but smile. “What sort of a difficult costume is that?”

Rollo shrugged. “Some sort of a colonial governor?
Hard to tell. It’ll be interesting to see how he manages against the village’s
finest swordsmen dressed up like such a dandy gentleman.”

Willard finally saw the man
he
had been
looking for. If Kenna had been paying attention, she would have noticed a short,
thick man with spindly legs weaving through the crowd. Tilting his head
slightly when the sheriff looked up at the box, Willard smiled, knowing that no
matter what else happened, no matter what sort of grotesque displays he had to
endure, that his plan was swimming right along.

––––––––

T
he crowd cheered wildly, becoming almost
infuriated with excitement as Rodrigo easily turned aside every blade and
slapped every competitor he came across with the flat of his sword. He moved
like water, flowing left, and then right, effortlessly moving away from the
groping, sloppy swings of the villagers he faced.

Elena, John and the others stood laughing and
cheering as they watched the Spaniard weave his way through yet another man’s
attacks and slap him on the backside with his sword. He spanked the man, and
flourished his sword in a dramatic circle around his head. The audience,
already loud, exploded with laughter and cheers.

Gavin’s attention was elsewhere. From where he
stood, the Mayor’s box was far enough away that he could see only the vague
outlines of people. But, one of those outlines had brilliant, flaming,
beautiful red hair.

“Ach! John! She’s there!” He reached for his
friend and grabbed John’s shoulder. “Look there!”

John’s response was to smile and nod. “We’ll have
her back soon,” he said. “Very soon. Dinna worry, aye?”

“I’ll try. It’s hard though. It’s hard to see her
and not be able to go to her and hold her close to me, you know?”

“Aye, I do. But have faith, Gav. We’ve gotten
here, and we’ve got these absurd outfits and Rodrigo’s going through his
opponents like a musket in a knife fight.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, John.” Gavin twisted
his face into a confused expression. “Why would a musket be in a knife fight?”

“You see, it’s because if you had a...if you had a
musket, but you were at a knife fight, then...er...”

At once, they both erupted into laughter.
“Thanks,” Gavin said. “You’re one of two people that know exactly how to calm
me when my nerves get the best of me. I couldna do it without you.”

“You’d be fine,” John said with a grin. “A little
more nervous, but fine. Oh! Look at that! Rodrigo’s beaten another one!”

Gavin looked away from Kenna long enough to see a
big man who wielded a saber far too small for his beefy hands lunge wildly at
Rodrigo, who laughed as he twisted to the side and stuck his foot underneath
the big Scotsman, tripping him. As soon as the bushy-bearded man hit the
ground, Rodrigo tapped him with the flat of his blade to show his victory, and
then helped the man to his feet.

“This man!” he shouted upon rising, loud enough
that he rose over the din of the crowd. “This man is the best I’ve ever seen!
No one will beat him! Brilliant, sir, you’re brilliant.”

A moment later, as if on cue, the mayor thumped
his cane against the wooden rail he had his hands upon, and the crowd’s noise
drained to a low din, then stopped.

“It looks as though we have our first winner of
the day! Wonderful!” Willard sounded excited, but the joy was only in his
voice. His face was still drawn, his mouth tight over those strange teeth. “And
what an exciting costume. Well done, friend. What are you called?”

As he had been instructed by Duggan, Rodrigo
responded “the Duke of Marlborough!” in an absurd English accent. The crowd
erupted in laughter, and at least outwardly, so did the mayor.

“Very good, Duke of Marlborough, very good.
Although you’re looking quite different from when last I saw you – have you
gotten a good deal of sun?”

“Yes mayor, I have. So I have won then?”

“You have. Congratulations.”

He swept off his hat, and took a deep, perfectly
executed Continental bow.

“Stand, dear, stand for everyone.” Willard reached
back and offered his hand to Kenna. She grasped it and stood, coming near the
rail for the first time. “I suppose now is as good a time as any. I was going
to wait, but since our victor has paid you such a nice compliment...” He threw
his voice in such a way that even though he was speaking to Kenna, really, he
was speaking to everyone in attendance.

Kenna waved, visibly uncomfortable.

“Some of you may have seen this young lady about
town the last few days. She came here as a traveler, and was my guest for a
dinner party. I was...taken, you could say,” he turned to Kenna and smiled in a
way that was obviously less than honest. At a distance though, it was as false
as a purple sky. “Taken with her charms, her beauty, and her purity. She’s a
truly wonderful young lady, and much to my surprise and to my excitement, she’s
agreed to two things. First of all, she agreed to accompany me on my upcoming
trip to Jamaica.”

Gavin turned to John, both of their eyes as wide
as saucers. Both of them were thinking the same thing, but neither bothered to
express it.

“I’ve been in negotiations with the fine gentlemen
from the East India Company, as many of you have chattered about. We’re
entering into an agreement that I believe will be of the utmost benefit to our
towns, and to them. We’re going to become the sole source of lumber for Company
ships! I’m traveling to Jamaica to finalize the plans, and Kenna has agreed to
come with me. Isn’t that wonderful? And on top of that, she’ll be doing it as
my wife.”

A sedate cheer went through the crowd.

Gavin clenched his fists so tight his fingernails
bit into his palms.

“Everything will be fine,” John said. “Dinna
worry, we’re only hours from getting her back. Hours at the outside.”

Through clenched teeth, Gavin growled, “I’m going
to murder him where he stands. He won’t get away with this.”

“Nay, nay he won’t. He won’t get away with
anything, but you’re not going to murder him and if you try I’ll stop you.
We’ll do this like we always have. With our wits.”

“Wits? Our wits? Speak for yourself, Two-fingers.
He took Kenna from me. I’ll slit his damned throat before he runs off with her.
She’s terrified, John. She’s been kidnapped and she’s terrified. She had to
rescue me last time from that foul sheriff, but this time, I’ll be the one
doing the saving.”

“Is that so?” A man’s voice from behind Gavin and
John said. “And I take offense to being called foul, you bastard thief.”

Immediately, they turned, and there he stood.
Squat, round, and of course, looking like it had been some time since he had a
bath. Alan ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth and shot a brown jet
from his lips that fell across Gavin’s boot.

“Quite a get-up you’ve got there.” He laughed
bitterly. “Did you really think your plan was going to work? Did you even
have
a plan?”

“You,” Gavin hissed through his teeth. “You’re going
to regret this.”

“I think not.” Alan patted the two men that
flanked him, who pulled back the lapels of their East India Company uniforms to
reveal the butts of pistols in their belts. “What’s actually going to happen is
that the two of you are going to do exactly what I say. You’re going to win
these idiot contests.” He spat again, this time on John’s bare foot. “You’re
going to win these fool contests. And then, just when these bumpkins think
you’re ascending to that box over there with your ex-fiancée in it, you’re
going to vanish. You and you, that damn Spaniard, and those three over there,”
he tilted his head to where Elena, Lynne and Olga stood, oblivious, “are coming
with me. I haven’t decided what I’m going to do yet, but...I assure you, sirs,
it will be
painful
.”