The Enchantress (31 page)

The little girl was nowhere to be found, and Laura felt a pang of anxiety clutch her belly.

“And I hope you approve of the cleaning the men have been doing in the Hall. They’ve been working at it most of the day, and I’d say they have made vast progress, wouldn’t you?”

Laura forced herself to look about the Great Hall, and for the first time she noticed the transformation. Over the last week things had been gradually improving, but now the Hall looked entirely different. From the scrubbed floor, to the orderly lines of tables and benches, to the newly cleaned and rehung tapestries on the walls--the Great Hall of the Blackfearn Castle was suddenly a place to be proud of.

“‘Tis absolutely stunning, provost.”

“Another thing. I was wondering if you would be interested in participating in the singing of carols? Or even playing a part in...”

“By any chance,” Laura interrupted, no longer able to hold back her worry, “have you seen your niece, provost?”

The man glanced about the chamber and then, giving Laura’s worried expression a closer look, nodded finally. “Aye, mistress, I have seen her, though I’m afraid I gave my word not to give away her whereabouts or her scheme until she is ready to reveal them herself.”

Laura stared at him in surprise for a moment. “Well, you know, then, that she is safe where she is?”

“Absolutely.”

“Is there adult supervision?”

The provost nodded reassuringly.

Laura let out a breath and nodded back at him, turning toward the kitchens. But then, two steps away, she whirled around with embarrassment burning her cheeks.

“Oh, provost, I--I apologize to you.”

Gilbert’s eyebrow arched. “And what for, mistress?”

“For my rudeness, of course. Though I hardly deserve such kindness, I just realized what you are trying to do.” She wrung her hands nervously as she returned to him. “You...you are trying to get me involved. Trying to make me feel at home. And...and I was horribly abrupt. Would you be kind enough to forgive me!”

A gentle smile broke out on Gilbert’s face. “Mistress Laura. I can assure you that there is nothing to forgive.”

“But...”

“You were concerned about Miriam. I understood your abruptness was simply the result of that concern.” He took a step closer to her and lowered his voice. “And having been a bystander the last time Miriam was here at Blackfearn Castle, I can tell you that the care and affection she is receiving from you is far more pronounced than any she received from her own mother during all of her younger years put together.”

Laura blushed and glanced down at her clasped hands. “I can assure you, provost, I am far more lacking than her mother...”

“Do not speak nonsense, Laura.” He put a gentle hand on her arm and drew her gaze to his kindly blue eyes. “‘Tis true that Mildred became a sister to me through her marriage to Thomas, but it is the absolute truth when I say that you are far better suited for Blackfearn Castle...and for William.”

Mildred. William. She repeated the names somberly in her mind. Always the suggestion of what had been between Mildred and William.

They had made passionate love. He’d tried to salvage her reputation and her future by taking her as his wife. But the tragedy of it was that Laura doubted if she could ever fill the void in William’s heart that Mildred had left.

“Do not fret, my new sister.”

She looked up again into the man’s face.

“I know all of this came about in haste. But knowing William’s lack of interest in anything long or drawn out, no one would have expected anything different when it came time for my brother to take a wife.” He took Laura by the arm and started leading her toward the door. “But you, however, going along with it! A woman of noble blood, sacrificing your own plans in agreeing to my brother’s proposal of marriage. In the eyes of the Ross folk, you are a prize to be highly regarded. And there is, indeed, a great deal of admiration for you.”

“Provost, I--”

“Please, Laura, do not fret. We are proud to have you among us.” Gilbert stopped and faced her. “You are now one of us, my sister, and nothing could be better...for any of us.”

******

William Ross made certain he was back at Blackfearn Castle shortly after nightfall. Dismounting in the courtyard, he inquired after his wife and Miriam. Learning that they were already in the Great Hall, he ordered Edward to see to his little scheme before joining everyone else for the meal.

Miriam skipped across the Hall to him as soon as he stepped through the door. She wrinkled her nose at him. “We’ve been waiting forever.”

“Is that so?” He leaned down and swept the child up in his arms, earning a giggle and an impish grin for his effort. “That is no way to greet me, my wee complaining brat.”

“Is this better?”

She threw her arms around his neck and gave him a big hug. The open display of the child’s affection caused a knot to swell in William’s throat.

“Much!” he managed to croak.

Across the Great Hall, close to Gilbert and Wyntoun, Laura stood watching them with a tenderness in her gaze. Without question, she was the most beautiful woman he had even seen in his life. Simply looking at her, he felt desire stir in his loins, and thoughts of all they had done last night came rushing back. Thoughts of things he could not wait to do with her again.

With Miriam still in his arms, he strode purposefully across the Hall to his wife.

Her cheeks blushed with the prettiest of pinks, and her eyes widened as she read the look in his eyes. One hand rose involuntarily to her breast.

“William!” Gilbert called as he drew near. “‘Glad you found time to return. There is so much that I need to go over with--”

“Wyntoun!” He gestured toward Gilbert. “Take this prattling, overgrown acolyte away. I need a moment alone with my wife.”

“That is ‘provost,’ if you don’t mind.”

“Aye,” William said with a grin. “‘Prattling provost’ does have a better ring to it.”

“Willie, you blasphemous cur...”

“Miriam,” the laird continued on, winking at the child and putting her down, “could you please help Sir Wyntoun entertain your uncle for a while? Maybe you can practice some of your whining with him.”

“Here to serve you, m’lord.”

The child’s mock-serious reply elicited a laugh all around, but William’s eyes were already on Laura.

“Have you been waiting forever as well?”

She bit her bottom lip and then gave a small nod.

He moved closer and took her arm, leading her to the great open hearth. There he turned to face her, blocking the room and everyone in it from her view.

“Did you miss me?”

Her blush turned a deeper red, her gaze flitting away, but a pretty smile broke out on her lips. “Everyone has been awaiting your return. I believe they are impatient for their supper.”

“They can all starve, for all I care.” He took hold of her chin and lifted it. “But did
you
miss me?”

“I did,” she softly whispered.

“Then show me.”

Her eyes rounded. “Here?”

“Here!”

She paused. She bit her lip. She swallowed and then looked slowly up until her deep violet eyes were staring into his.

“You are a rogue, William Ross. You know I missed you.” She placed her hands on his shoulders and, raising herself onto her tiptoes, she brushed her lips against his own.

William took full advantage of the moment, wrapping an arm around her waist, drawing her up, and kissing her thoroughly. It was some time before he pulled back, and a satisfied smile broke on his lips at the way her eyes remained glazed for a moment after he’d broken off the kiss.

“I missed you, too.” He placed a soft kiss beneath her ear and took her hand in his own. Turning toward the Hall, he found every eye in the place on them. Instantly, a cheer rang out among the gathered throng, the pipers tuned up, and a noisy celebration began.

“Well, it appears they are not
too
angry with us for delaying their supper.”

Her voice was little more than a murmur in his ear. “You scoundrel, I’m embarrassed enough to faint.”

He brought her hand to his lips and placed a kiss on the tips of her fingers.

“Not yet.” He grinned at her. “I’ll have no swooning until we’re alone. That way, I’ll have free rein to do whatever I wish with my defenseless wife.”

“William!” she scolded with a coy smile that made him laugh out loud.

The woman was precious, he thought. He was certainly the most fortunate man in the Highlands. Nay, in the world.

Laura sat on one side of him and Miriam on the other during the dinner. Course after course of meats and fowl and fish appeared, each a triumph for the new cook. Toast after toast was offered up for the laird and his new bride, and the merriment continued unabated for hours.

Finally, as William laid his cup on the table, Laura smiled at the little girl beside him and suggested that perhaps it was time for wee ones to be in bed. But the people of Clan Ross had other ideas.

With a flourish Edward stood up, waving his arm and shouting over the revelry. As the noise subsided, the huge warrior turned and asked the laird and his bride to remain where they were sitting for a few moments of entertainment.

Laura sent him a questioning look and then gave a hesitant nod while William smiled broadly. Under the table, the laird reached over and took his wife’s hand in his own. She smiled up at him, and his heart swelled.

The tables that had been lined up in the center of the Hall were pulled back to create an open area before the dais. Everyone but those who were a part of the entertainment moved back, crowding the benches around the large open square.

Edward moved to the end of the dais to present the “argument” and to provide a running commentary.

He introduced the first of the actors.

“Enter, Mistress Laura Percy!”

Peter, the giant, red-haired bruiser of a man, entered from the kitchen door, dressed in a woman’s black dress that barely reached his knees and was stretched at every seam. The crowd broke out with boisterous laughter as Peter stepped toward the dais and raised his brows suggestively at his laird before moving to his place in the square.

“Enter, William of Blackfearn, laird of Ross!”

The laughter and shouts continued as Peter’s Wife, tiny and pixie-faced, swaggered into the Great Hall, dressed in a Ross kilt that dragged upon the floor.

Miriam was tugging on William’s sleeve. “I asked her today why she has no name of her own and is always called Peter’s Wife.”

William glanced over at the little girl. “Did you, lassie?”

The child nodded excitedly. “Her given name is Eglantine, the same as the four sisters who were born but died before her. She said she thought ‘twas a curse for sure not to have a saint’s name, so she changed it as soon as she married to Peter’s Wife.”

William knew the story, but still looked interested as Miriam continued on. “I believe I would like to change my name as well.”

Just then Peter’s Wife, tripping over the long kilt, fell forward to the floor and Peter, with his fists planted at his hips, cocked an eyebrow at the prostrate woman, causing another wave of laughter to roll through the Hall.

“I like your name,” William whispered back to Miriam, “just as it is.”

“You do?” The child’s bright smile told the laird that she would keep her name...for what was left of the evening, at least.

To the sound of the boos and cheers of the spectators, the rest of the actors filled the stage. William had to laugh when he saw that his people had even convinced Wyntoun to take a part.

Edward raised his hands in the air, and silence crept over the hall. Laura tightened her grip on his hand.

The chief warrior’s voice boomed out. “An ordinary day in Blackfearn Castle’s Great Hall.”

The people started moving around the stage. There were mock arguments between crofters roaming about. Warriors stretched out on benches. Food on trenchers, tasted by the players, was promptly spat out before being dumped on the floor. Gilbert’s dog Willie lumbered past the mess, sniffed it without eating, and then stretched out in the center of the square.

“The laird joins his people.”

Peter’s Wife, pulling up her kilt so she wouldn’t trip over it again, marched into the center. Planting one hand on the hilt of the huge wooden sword strapped to her waist, she walked to the crofters, mumbling something and getting smiles and pats on the back. Then she walked to the warriors, again receiving encouraging nods. Then back to the crofters, and back again to warriors. On the last trip, the ‘laird’ tried to pick up some of the trash, to only trip and fall over the provost’s dog. Willie merely raised an ear. Laughter rang out again in the hall.

“We could never accuse our laird of not trying, could we?”

The response was in harmony and loud enough to shake the rafters. William felt Laura’s hand squeeze his own and turned to see her eyes watching him tenderly.

“Mistress Laura arrives at Blackfearn Castle.”

William’s and Laura’s eyes were drawn to the huge figure of Peter, hands planted on his hips, skirt hiked up on one side, as he walked menacingly into the circle. The whistling of the men in the Hall was deafening, and Peter’s curtsy in response was actually quite good.

“Mistress Laura takes charge.”

"Laura" walked over to the "laird" and batted his eyes, before turning with exaggerated shock to the melange of food and men scattered about the stage. Dramatically raising a hand to his forehead, the "woman" shook his head with an air of severe disapproval. Not a moment was allowed to pass, however, before the gigantic "Laura" had rolled the sleeves of the dress up over a pair of brawny arms and pulled a wooden spoon out of the pocket of the dress.

Walking around the stage, the warrior began pointing the spoon at everyone standing around and even raising a pantomimed argument with the onlooking "laird."

The silent wrangling went on for a moment, only to stop abruptly when Peter puckered his lips and noisily kissed his tiny adversary.

William cast a side glance at Laura and found her ready to crawl under the dais.