The Great Scottish Devil (8 page)

“The man who gets ye as his wife will also have much to deal with,” Brodie snapped and followed after her down the stairs. “Ye are far too sassy. Stubborn as well.”

She pretended to ignore him and walked casually to take a seat at one of the trestle tables with a number of his soldiers. Angus Gordon being one of them. They all looked surprised, and far too pleased at her presence. Far too many were staring at her bosom.

Brodie stormed right behind her, bent down to grab her around her waist, and hauled her to her feet. “Ye eat on the dais with me.”

Gordon stood as if prepared to test him, which he wished the man would do. It would give him an excuse to dismiss him and send him away from Urquhart.

Annabel squirmed out of Brodie’s hold and huffed in clear irritation. Then she faced Gordon and said gently, “’Tis all right. It matters naught where I break my fast. I will talk with you later.”

“I am glad to ken ye are feeling better this day. Mayhap we can have our walk tonight.” He sent Brodie a look of challenge.

Brodie wanted to protest but instead took Annabel’s hand and drug her with him to the laird’s table. Of course she called back sweetly, “’Twill be my pleasure, Sir Gordon.”

As she settled into her chair with a slight wince, he leaned down to taunt her. “Evidently yer bottom is better this morn, but no’ completely.”

She reached for a chunk of bread from the platter in front of her. Then, smiling for those people nearby watching them, she hissed quietly. “Aye, ‘tis a bit tender yet, which I am sure pleases you.”

Oddly, it didn’t please him. He sat beside her and sighed in disgust. “Now ‘tis I who must apologize. No’ fer the leathering, but fer teasing ye aboot it. We will speak nay more of it.”

She faced him, her eyes dancing with mischief as she nibbled on the bread. He’d just reached for his mug of mead when she said sassily in a near whisper, “My bottom was warm all night, Lord Devil. My thoughts of you unkind at first.” She smiled. “After a while, though, my thoughts of you turned as warm as my body.”

Brodie sucked in a breath at her boldness. Wanting to put a stop to it, he warned in a low tone, “Unless ye want another warming, a harder one, watch yer words.”

The minx merely smiled even more but shook her head. “I would rather not. I will try to behave, to mind my words better.”

They ate their meal in silence, but he was far too aware of her sitting beside him. The heat of her called to him, the scent of her tortured him. It was time he began a serious search for a husband for Annabel.

* * *

As she darted out of the paddock after checking on her horses, Annabel’s heart raced. She’d felt like someone was watching her all morning, wherever she went. Being alone in the near darkness of the stable could have been foolish. Now, as she hurried toward the gardens and the safety of being with two of the maids, she thought about the mysterious note she’d found yesterday.
Ala…vow to kill Anna
. The words had haunted her last night, had made her dreams frightening.

“Are ye all right, lass?” Angus Gordon asked, popping up behind her.

Annabel gasped and put a hand to her heart. “Where did you come from?” Why hadn’t she heard him? Had she been too lost in her thoughts?

The tall, lean redhead gave her a slow smile, as if amused by making her nervous. His gaze moved over her in a way that had her shivering.

When he answered, he ignored her question. “Ye look a bit pale, Anna. Mayhap ye’re not as well this day as ye’d thought. Mayhap ye should rest a bit longer. Let me escort ye into the keep.” He moved closer and started to reach for her arm.

She inched backward another foot and avoided his touch. And she didn’t like the way he’d called her “Anna.” Only her father and Brodie called her that. “Annabel,” she corrected and then gave him a weak smile when he frowned.

She drew in a steadying breath and said, “I thank you for your concern, but I am much better this day.” The paleness he’d commented on would have been a response to his surprising her. He didn’t need to know the specifics of why she hadn’t felt well enough last night to go walking with him. Nay, he didn’t need to know that it had been all Brodie’s fault. That he’d given her a sound leathering and ordered her to her room.

“Ye look verra nice in yer dress this morn.” His gaze moved over her again and she saw his nostrils flare. “I look forward to walking with ye this night.”

“Why are ye no’ with the other men in the lower bailey?” Sir Douglas asked in a bark. He strode from the side of the keep and his expression mirrored his anger.

Although Brodie’s first knight had spoken gruffly to the other man, his eyes softened when he looked at her. For a second she wondered if he was who had been watching her this morn. Had Brodie assigned him the task of following her around, making sure she stayed out of trouble, and making sure she didn’t try to sneak away in her wagon? But that was a ridiculous idea. Douglas was far too important to be put to such a job. And she was probably being foolish anyway. Surely there was no one watching her, following her. It was just that note.

The two men seemed to be staring at each other in challenge, the tension straining. It puzzled her why Angus hadn’t immediately walked away when all but ordered to do so. She’d noted other times that he appeared to have too little concern for rubbing against his laird.

She decided to end this competition—whatever it was—between the two grim-faced men. She would not have them fighting because of her. “Sir Gordon happened to be walking by and wanted to be sure I was well this morn. He knew I had been sent to...gone to my chamber early yesterday. Knew I had been feeling poorly.”

Sir Douglas raised an eyebrow at her misspeak of “sent to” instead of “gone to.” But he merely backed down a bit with Angus. “I will accept the excuse. This time. Now, join the others, Gordon.”

It took another tense second before Angus gave a curt nod and walked away. Her shoulders slumped in relief as he disappeared around the keep. Mayhap walking with him this night would be a mistake. Yet they wouldn’t be alone. There were always people milling about the baileys at night.

“I dunna like the mon,” Douglas grumbled. “Neither does Brodie.”

“Angus is still new here. I think mayhap he just takes a little more getting to know than some people.” Although she wasn’t sure whether or not she liked him, she felt the need to defend him. In truth, he’d never been unkind to her. Yes, she would give him the benefit of the doubt. She would walk with him this night and get to know him better.

Douglas looked at her, his expression unhappy. “A rider came not long ago. Lady Stonewall and her party should be here sometime after the nooning hour.”

Annabel’s stomach instantly tightened with dread. But she forced a smile. “’Tis a good thing, Sir Douglas. Lord Devil… I mean Lord Urquhart…is ready to move forward with his life. He is accepting he may never have his memories back, though I hope he is wrong about that. Anyway, he knows he can no longer dwell on that problem. He knows he must do right by his people, give them a strong leader once again, give them a lady of the castle, and…”

She’d been babbling in her determination to justify what was coming. Yet as she’d started to say “and provide an heir for Urquhart,” she suddenly stopped. Her lower lip trembled and tears filled her eyes. With all of that, he would be lost to her forever.
Nay! He is already lost to you!

Douglas looked distinctly uncomfortable, but he pulled her into his awkward embrace. He patted her back as the weak woman in her quietly sobbed her heartache against his chest. His voice was gruff again, but gentle. “Our Brodie is a difficult mon at the best of times. But above all else, he is fearsomely noble and honorable. He canna go against his word, even if he doesna remember giving it.”

She sniffed back her tears and drew in breaths to stop this foolish crying. Inching out of his embrace, she raised her chin. “You are all lucky to have him. I know this.” She swallowed down a lump in her throat. “I wish it could be different, that we had met under different circumstances. But things are what they are.”

Douglas’s eyes revealed the depths of his frustration with the situation. “He must marry this Lady Stonewall. He has nay choice.”

“I wouldna make him a good wife, anyway. He finds me too willful, too stubborn.” She dashed away her tears and glanced toward the paddock. “It is time I leave here.”

Brodie strode from around the keep, surprising her as both Angus and then Douglas had done. Yet again she put a hand to her heart. He scowled darkly at her. “Ye are no’ leaving here until I give ye permission! I will have yer wagon dismantled if I must.”

Furious, she walked right in front of him, planted her hands on her hips. “You will do no such thing!”

His mighty shoulders squared. “Do no’ keep threatening to leave then.” He lowered his gaze to her hands on her hips. “Ye ken what happens when ye go against me.”

Douglas dared to move closer, to stand at her side. “She only means to—”

Brodie rounded on him, his eyes flashing with warning. “She means to drive me crazy. Someone wishes to kill her. I canna let her leave here unguarded…or at least without a husband by her side. I canna!”

“Kill her?” Douglas’s scowl matched Brodie’s when he looked at her. “What is this aboot? Who?”

The fight went out of her at the reminder that someone wanted her dead. Her knees threatened to give out. She felt weak all over, and so desperately alone. Except for the two fierce-looking men in front of her. But, in truth, she should not, could not, depend on them to protect her. Mayhap while she was here at Urquhart, but she could not stay here forever.

“’Tis not your problem. Either of you.” She started to walk toward the keep. She wanted to lie down, have some time to think everything through.

“Ye’re wrong, lass,” Brodie gritted out. “I’m yer guardian until ye have a husband. My duty is to look after ye, keep ye safe. And I will.”

She kept on walking, struggled to keep from crying.
His duty
. That was all she was and ever could be to him.

* * *

Several hours later Brodie stood rigidly in front of the keep. His stomach knotted as he waited for the two dozen, chain-mailed soldiers to cross over the drawbridge and enter the inner bailey. In the midst of the riders he finally caught sight of the woman he was to marry and spend the rest of his days with. A perfect lady. She rode perched on a side-saddle with one leg wrapped around the saddle horn. Her gown was blue and lines of beading ran down from the low décolleté. Her hair was hidden beneath a Wimple that wrapped around her throat and was tucked into the neckline of her gown. He had no idea what color her hair was, but he didn’t really care. In truth he cared little about her, wanted nothing to do with her. A frustrated thought that had him clenching his hands into fists at his sides.

The bailey was crowded with his soldiers, servants, and many of the villagers. All had heard of the pending arrival of their laird’s betrothed and had come to see the woman who would become the lady of the castle. Where only moments before there had been much talking and easy laughter, now there was only silence. Except for the heavy hoofbeats over the wooden bridge.

Sir Douglas stood next to him, as if sensing Brodie’s unease and trying to offer him support. “Lady Stonewall is a rare beauty, my laird.”

Brodie nodded but didn’t answer. She might be a beautiful woman, but she wasn’t Anna.

Forcing himself to do what was right, he strode toward his soon-to-be bride. He stood next to her horse and gazed awkwardly up at her for a second. Then he reached to help her down. She was heavier than Annabel, though still slender. She was also a good six or so inches taller than Annabel, with the top of her head—without the pointed Wimple—coming to his nose instead of his shoulder. And it annoyed him to keep comparing Agatha Stonewall to Annabel Henderson.

“Is something the matter, my lord?” she asked warily at his apparent frown.

She does not deserve your anger
. Brodie shook his head. “Nay.” He forced a smile, weak as it was. “Yer trip went well?”

“Aye, but ‘twas tiring.” She glanced around the bailey at the many people and gave a slight nod of acknowledgment but no warm smile, as Anna gifted them with every day.

Then she focused on a pair of young maids nearby. “You two. You will act as my personal maids. I am in need of a bath as soon as you can see to arranging it.” She looked at Brodie. “If that is acceptable with you, of course.”

He nodded approval and the young women hurried toward the keep. He looked at the heavily loaded wagon at the rear of her party and then to her guards. “Ye men can bring her trunks and other items inside after ye’ve rested a bit. There is food and drink in the great hall.”

Agatha cleared her throat, gaining his attention. “I will need my clothes and other things for my bath. They can rest after taking the trunks inside.”

Brodie sensed their disgruntlement, felt it as well. He didn’t like his orders being countermanded. He’d been on such long journeys. He understood that these men were tired. “Nay, Lady Stonewall, yer men will eat a bite first. Drink some ale to wet their throats.”

He noted numerous appreciative nods and knew, without any of them speaking, that this woman had been a trial to them. And, as he glanced at her again, he saw that she wasn’t the least bit happy about his countering her demand. He didn’t care. But he did say grudgingly, “If ye feel ye have to have yer belongings now, then a few of my men can tote them to yer chamber.”

The smile she gave him didn’t come close to reaching her stormy blue eyes. “To our chamber, you mean. For surely, as soon as I have bathed and dressed in a proper gown, we will say our vows.”

God’s teeth, nay
! “We will no’ be saying any vows this day. Nor fer at least a fortnight.” Brodie was definite about that now. Until she’d opened her mouth and begun being unreasonable, in his opinion, he might have gone against good sense and went ahead with the ceremony today. But now he needed more time to get used to her ways and he would take it.