Tamed by a Laird (28 page)

Jenny hurried into the woods, found a place to see to her immediate need, and then, hoping Hugh would not look for her right
away, went to find Peg.

The erstwhile maidservant was talking with Gawkus near one of the cook fires, but seeing Jenny, she broke off her conversation
and hurried to meet her.

“I didna think ye’d be up so early,” she said.

“Sir Hugh means to take me back,” Jenny said. “However, I do not want to go. He thinks our marriage is not legal, sithee,
because of my betrothal to his brother. So, he means to hand me back to my uncle to sort things out.”

“Sakes, mistress, I thought ye’d be gey pleased to marry Sir Hugh. The two o’ ye seem to like each other, and more. Sakes,
when ye sing to him—”

“That was an act, Peg, like everything else!” Ignoring the silent protest that arose within her at the words, Jenny added
fiercely, “I don’t
want
to go back!”

Peg frowned. “I dinna blame ye for that, mistress, especially if they can still make ye marry that Reid Douglas. Sakes, me
own cousin were overnight with a man—and him another cousin—’cause his mam died whilst she were a-staying wi’ them. He arranged
to send her home the very next morning, but the man she were betrothed to demanded she be examined to make sure her cousin
hadna taken her maidenhead—aggrieved as the poor man were, and all!”

“Examined?”

“Aye, sure, d’ye ken nowt o’ such?

When Jenny shook her head, Peg said, “Me cousin told me half the women in the village came to watch when the midwife felt
to see did she still have her virtue intact. She’ll never forgive her man for demanding such a thing o’ her.”

A shiver shot up Jenny’s spine. Would Reid demand such an examination? The image Peg’s words had stirred in her mind made
her skin crawl.

“I can’t go back,” she said firmly.

“Aye, but ye must, mistress. A woman must do as her husband bids her.”

Jenny ground her teeth together to keep from shrieking that
she
need not do so. But she knew that arguing the point with Peg would be useless.

Looking around, she saw that Hugh had come out of their tent and was talking with several other men near the second fire.

He caught her gaze briefly but made no move toward her. Nor did he motion her to join him.

Taking it to mean he would not try to order her about yet, and seeing that Gilly had joined Gawkus where Peg had left the
latter, she strolled toward them, trying to think how to put her case to them.

They both smiled at her approach. But she noted, too, that they looked as one toward Hugh.

“Good morrow,” she said, drawing their attention back to her. “I hope you have some time for us to practice after breakfast,
Gilly. I want to show you how much better my aim is with my dirk.”

“Aye, sure, Jenny,” Gilly said. “That is, if your man approves it. Husbands, sithee, can be prickly creatures.”

“Oh, Hugo will not mind,” she said.

Gawkus frowned. “Sakes, lass,” he said. “The man has watched over ye like a wolf wi’ one cub since he came here. And Gilly
may be small, but he’s aye another man for all that.”

Feeling heat flood her cheeks, Jenny said, “Even so, Hugo knows that Gilly has been teaching me. He won’t object to another
lesson.”

“Will he not?” Gilly asked with a slight movement of his head.

Following the motion, expecting to see Hugh striding toward them, she saw instead with a sinking sensation that Lucas had
begun to take down their tents.

“He has already taken out the pallets, lass. For all that your Hugo said he meant to ride with us to Threave, I’m thinking
he has taken another notion into his head now. He were none so pleased as we thought he’d be by yon wedding.”

“Sakes, do you think he is leaving me?”

“Nay, then,” Gawkus said. “The man doesna breathe wha’ would be such a dunder-pate as that. He wants ye to himself now, is
all.”

That thought shot new sensations through her. She was sure Hugh could make her do almost anything if he set his mind to it,
and instead of infuriating her, the knowledge intensified the unfamiliar feelings and made her feel hot all over.

“Ye’re blushing, lassie,” Gilly said with a knowing smile. “I’ll just go ask him does he want me to go on teach—”

“Nay, then, don’t,” she said, flustered but determined not to give Hugh a chance to tell Gilly he was taking her home. “I’ll…
I’ll ask him myself.”

“Aye, that would be better,” the little man agreed.

Certain now that with Peg, Gilly, and Gawkus reacting as they had to her marriage, she could count on no one else—least of
all the Joculator—to side with her, Jenny felt more irritated than ever with Hugh.

She equaled him in rank. In fact, for all she knew of Thornhill, her estates might be larger and more valuable than his were.
Yet, because of her foolish lie and the contrivance of her supposed friends, Hugh was now her husband and could command her
to do whatever it occurred to him to command.

“It is not fair,” she muttered.

“What’s that, Jenny-lass?” Gawkus asked gently.

Still watching Hugh as Gerda swayed up to him, doubtless with eyelashes aflutter, Jenny had forgotten about the two men who
stood with her.

Glancing up at Gawkus, she wished she had kept a guard on her tongue. But knowing she owed him an explanation, she decided
on the truth and said ruefully, “I don’t want him to take me away from here.”

“Then ye’ve only to tell him so,” Gawkus recommended.

“I did.”

“I see.” He exchanged a look with Gilly, then looked soberly back at her. “Did we do ye a disservice, Jenny-lass? We none
of us meant to do that.”

Gilly, too, looked upset.

Jenny could not let her two friends think they had betrayed her, not when the whole thing was her own fault. “Nay,” she said
gently. “ ’Twas no disservice. I… I am just not accustomed to submitting to any man since my father died.”

“Aye, we did think ye must lack a father, as sure o’ yourself as ye be,” Gawkus said. “I warrant ye’ve nae brothers either.”

She shook her head, realizing she could not continue a discussion of her family without revealing the truth or trying to lie
again, and she did not want to do either one. If she had her way, she would never lie again, to anyone.

“Yon Hugo still be a-staring at us,” Gilly said. “I think ye should go now and put the man’s mind to rest afore he comes over
here and puts
us
to rest.”

Jenny looked at Hugh and saw that Gerda still chatted with him. Even so, he was watching
her
, and Gilly was right. Hugh looked grim.

Wary of stirring his temper further, she said, “I had better go.”

“So I were just a-thinking that mayhap we should practice yon scene again lest we forget our lines,” Gerda said.

Gerda had been batting her eyelashes at Hugh as if she were trying to fling them off her eyelids. Twice now, she had touched
his arm as if she sensed that he was trying to ignore her. Glancing away, he saw Jenny walking toward them.

When Gerda put a hand on his forearm and left it there, he reluctantly wrenched his gaze from Jenny to look at the plumper
lass, wishing he could think of something to say that would discourage Gerda’s flirting without giving offense.

He had not decided what he would say to the others in the company, but he would have to think of something soon. Lucas had
packed the sumpter baskets and nearly had the tent down. Although he had acted quietly, someone would demand an explanation
soon. The minstrels would not pack up for at least two more days.

Bustling up to them, Cath said, “Gerda, if ye’re going to break your fast, ye’d best get to it. Hugo doesna want to hear your
blandishments today. The man just married, love, so leave him be—at least till his passions cool some.”

Hugh met Cath’s laughing eyes and smiled. “Such cooling may take time,” he said, knowing that would be true, annulment or
no annulment.

“Aye, sure,” Cath said. “But everyone forgets these first days soon enough. I see that your man be a-packing your things.
D’ye mean to be away, then?”

“I expect ye’ll understand how it is,” he said. “I followed me lass for so long and came so near giving up thinking I might
win her that I want her to m’self now for a time. Will the others think the worse o’ me for that?”

“Nay then,” she said, casting a teasing glance at her daughter. “What I’m thinking is that only one person will grieve your
loss, Hugo, and that be our Gerda. Lanky Gawkus can take your place in yon play, for if Gilly plays the priest, ’twill be
even funnier. And,” she added with a sour look, “Cuddy’s cousin Drogo be going to Threave with us, so he can take your place
wi’ the singing.”

Seeing Jenny pause nearby, Hugh motioned her close and put an arm around her. “I was just telling Cath and Gerda that we mean
to leave, lass. I think now that I ought to have told the Joculator first, though. We had better go do that now.”

He saw her glance at Gerda, her expression revealing little. She held out a hand to Cath then, saying, “Thank you, and you,
too, Gerda, for making me feel so welcome here. I shall miss you both. Indeed, I will miss everyone here.”

Cath opened her arms, and Jenny walked into them. With tears in her eyes, she hugged the older woman hard. Then, turning to
Gerda, she opened her own arms.

Grinning, Gerda hugged her. “I willna say ye’re the better woman for him, Jen,” she said. “But ye do sing well. So, if he
casts ye off, come and find us.”

With a watery chuckle, Jenny said, “I will, and gladly. Thank you!”

As they walked away, Hugh said, “You have a good heart, lass.”

She did not answer, and he knew she was still fighting tears.

Jenny would not have wanted to admit that, briefly, she had felt more like scratching out Gerda’s eyes than hugging her. Why
that impulse had leapt into being she could not have said. It had formed when she saw Gerda rest her hand on Hugh’s arm and
had swiftly ballooned to near fury. Surely, she was not jealous!

Neither did she want to admit that she had made herself hug Gerda only because she had hugged Cath and did not want to give
Gerda cause to speak against her. It had seemed right to do it, so she had simply followed an instinct that had served her
well in the past. Now, she was glad she had.

Walking to find the Joculator, she waited for Hugh to speak.

“Looks like snow,” he said at last, frowning at the sky.

“As it has every day for a sennight,” she reminded him.

“Those clouds in the west are blacker though, and ’tis growing colder.”

He was right, but normally in March, the nearer one came to the end, the milder the weather. Moreover, they had not had a
heavy snowstorm in weeks.

She was more concerned about what they would say to the Joculator and what he would say to them. They found him at his tent.

He had heard them coming and came out to meet them. Looking from one to the other, he said, “So ye’re leaving us. I trust
there be nae ill will betwixt us.”

“None, sir,” Hugh said. “Though I do mean to take my lass away from here. I hope you have no objection.”

“Nay, how should I? I’m thinking I dinna ken the whole tale yet, but mayhap someday ye’ll see fit to tell me.”

Jenny stiffened, not daring to look at either man now that she knew how easily each could read her expressions. To ease her
tension, she drew a breath and concentrated on doing it slowly and exhaling just as slowly.

As she did, Hugh was saying, “Mayhap we will have more to discuss another time, sir. In any event, I am grateful to you and
the others for welcoming us both as you did. ’Twas kind of you, and generous. We wish you well at Threave.”

“Aye, but ye’ll be there, too, will ye not, Hugo lad— bound as ye be to perform for the Lord o’ Galloway?”

Hugh nodded. “I will. But my lass will not. I mean to take her home first.”

“A good notion,” the Joculator said. “Doubtless, ye’ll be leaving her in safe hands. Your parents, belike.”

“I promise you, she will be safe,” Hugh said. “Come now, Jenny. I want to be away as soon as we can.”

“ ’Tis a black day for traveling,” the Joculator said.