Thistle and Flame - Her Highland Hero (7 page)

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“I
’ve,” Kenna sucked a deep breath, “never worn a
corset that took two people to tie.”

The two ladies whom Laird Macdonald had assigned
to dress her for the party were hustling back and forth, pinning her hair,
rubbing her with scented oils, hitching her into awfully restrictive clothing
and powdering her face with some horrible stuff that caused her to sneeze.

“Miss Kenna,” Olga, the bigger of the two serving
ladies said in a thick, German accent, “you are going to have to stop sneezing!
The powder won’t stay in place and you huffed and puffed half of it onto the
rug!”

“Well I’m sorry Olga, but I can’t keep myself from
sneezing when there’s powder going up my nose.”

The two ladies snickered softly to keep up
propriety, while Kenna tried to cross her arms over her chest, but couldn’t
quite manage.

“Can’t you loosen this horrible thing?” She said.

“Now, now, miss Kenna. You’re a lady now. You
can’t act like you’re in the country anymore. Elena,” she called to Kenna’s
other assistant, “if you could please tie her hair more tightly, I think a bun
on top. You can let two little tentacles down the sides.”

“Tentacles?” Kenna said. “That sounds horrible!”

“I’m sorry; I don’t know any words for...tendrils?
Locks?”

“Locks is much less awful sounding.”

“Elena, please put Mrs. Macdonald-”

“I’m not Mrs. Macdonald yet, Olga. Don’t remind
me.”

“Yes, very sorry. Elena, two locks on either side
of Miss Kenna’s pretty face. You have the reddest hair that ever I have seen.”

Her words brought a little smile to Kenna’s face.
The first one she’d had all day. The carriage ride back from the brief
sightseeing tour of the city with Sheriff Alan was a grim one. His manners and
demeanor were so grotesque that she was barely able to tolerate his company,
much less the increasingly constant attention he paid her. It was as though he
realized that she was a pretty girl, and then refused to let her more than a
half-foot away from him until she finally hopped out of the carriage and walked
as quickly as she could into the house.

Rodrigo’s not so bad, though,
Kenna
thought.
He’s got a nice smile, he’s not mean to everyone he sees just for
the sake of it, and most of all, he isn’t forever gnawing on tobacco that drips
down his chin and...
She shivered as she remembered the brown stains on the
sheriff’s teeth and his fingers and whiskers, and the brown streaks in his
ill-fitting wig.

“What do you think of Alan, Olga?”

Olga ran a comb through Kenna’s wavy hair, tugging
out tangles so that Elena could fix it as she prescribed. “The sheriff?”

Kenna nodded. “He took me on a carriage ride
through the city today. It was not very comfortable.”

“He’s a lecherous man. And he’s foul and vulgar.
And a slovenly drunk.”

“I noticed all of those things, though he didn’t
do any drinking while I was with him.”

“But, he’s also a nobleman. Sent up here from
Manchester, I think.”

“Cambridgeshire,” Elena said. “Sent up here from
Cambridgeshire after he defiled one of the King’s servants.”

“Are you being serious?”

“Quite.” Elena said.

“He seems the sort,” Kenna said. “But what about
that man who he takes around with him like he’s a thug, Rodrigo, I think his
name is? What of him?”

“Rodrigo, he’s a good man. And he’s not a lecher.
But if he was, I don’t think I’d much mind.” Olga chuckled and Elena blushed.
“He’s a Spaniard, a famous swordfighter from Barcelona. He’s a mute though,
lost his tongue while he was adventuring in the Americas. Another of the
servants told me he was taken captive by Blackfoot Indians, and they tortured
him and cut out his tongue.”

“That’s...horrible,” Kenna said. “Is it true?”

“It’s a good story, anyway.” Olga busied herself
mixing some new tincture that Kenna was sure would make her sneeze as Elena
began to painfully tug, pull and pin her hair into place.

Minutes, then a half-hour passed in silence and
finally Elena and Olga stood back, examined their handiwork and ask Kenna to
stand.

“Beautiful,” Olga said.

“Breastaking,” Elena said.

“Breath,” Olga corrected. “Breathtaking.”

“Yes, that.”

“Look here,” Olga said.

Kenna turned slowly to face the mirror behind her
as though she wasn’t sure she wanted to see.

“Oh,” she said. “I can’t...I can’t believe this.”

She smoothed the elegant green silk of her gown
down along her slim waist and looked herself up and down.

“I’ve never worn anything like-”

“You should get used to it Miss Kenna. Or, Lady
Kenna, I suppose is more correct?”

Kenna gently chewed her bottom lip before Olga
tisked
at her and repainted her ruby lips.

“Sorry, I’m just not accustomed to this.”

Olga smiled at her like her mother did.

“Why are we doing this, anyway? What’s the point
of this big banquet and a dance and all this?”

“Miss Kenna, you are to become the new Lady
Macdonald. That’s not a something that happens every day. Or every week. In
fact, it’s something that only happens every fifteenth year or so.” She giggled
at her naughty joke. “It’s very important for the Laird to show you to his
peers, I can’t pretend I understand the proceedings, but there will be a grand
feast of which you can eat almost nothing owing to your dress. Then there will
be a masquerade ball where you’ll be able to only barely dance-”

“Owing to my dress.” Kenna frowned.

“But it won’t be very long,” Olga said. “Laird
Macdonald isn’t as young as you. He’ll need his rest before the evening gets
too long.”

They shuffled her out of her chamber, giggling all
the way.

Outside, Ramsay Macdonald, elegant in his
waistcoat and finery, awaited her.

“Dear,” he said. “You look stunning. You’ll
certainly do.”

I bet I’ll do,
Kenna thought.

Her hand went to her neck and the tiny glass globe
secreted below her collar. Something about the hard, round ornament, safe
between her breasts made Kenna Moore smile, at least for a moment.

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K
enna’s eyes glazed over as Laird Macdonald
explained in excruciating detail how the evening was to go.

“First, there will be a fife and pipe band,” he
said. He didn’t like drums because they made his eyes water. “Orrick will
announce the visitors for our meal, and then he’ll announce us, with you as my
fiancée. We’ll sit and then we’ll eat. You do know how to eat properly, yes?”

His voice condescended so horribly that Kenna
smiled with her lips closed so he couldn’t see how tight she had her jaws.

“Knife on the left, fork on the right, finger goes
down the stem of the silverware. Tines on the fork point downward.”

“Very good. There’s hope for you yet.”

Kenna swallowed her protest.

“And then,” he continued, “we’ll have our courses
of food, lots of idle conversation which I cannot stand and in which you shall
not partake in favor of appearing to have careful manners.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh good, she’s learning how to address her
superiors,” Macdonald smiled. “Keep that up and you’ll be fine.”

If Gavin’s out there anywhere, if he’s really
this Edinburgh ghost, you’ll be sorry if he finds me here
, Kenna thought.
He
won’t leave me in a place like this.

She nodded.

“And then the dancing whereupon I pretend to want
it to happen. I expect you to feign having a good time with as many useless
nobles as possible. It makes it appear as though you have free will to do as
you wish. And it makes you appear more vigorous. Understood?”

Again, Kenna just nodded. She thought it was a
lucky thing that Olga and Elena spent so much time applying her blush, because
there was absolutely not a speck of color left on her cheeks.

“W – who is coming to the dance?”

“God only knows. Whatever riff-raff Orrick sent
invitations to. I imagine he sent them to every minor noble within a day’s
ride, and many of them are so idle that they’ll come just for something to do.
Or, more likely, to be seen. Even though this is a party for us, dear little
Kenna, no one coming actually has interest in you or I. Instead they’re here to
get other nobles drunk and try to pry money out of them, or to secure positions
for their bastards, or their half-wit children that can’t do anything else.”

“I miss Fort Mary,” she said.

“I’m sure you do. Simple people don’t have so many
worries as important ones. An unfortunate fact. But, don’t worry. You’ll soon
be able to retire from the public eye and be little more than my breeding
mare.”

Her jaw dropped.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I’m a bit surprised that you’re shocked. Your
being here is an effect of convenience. I’m getting on in life. Sixty-two this
year. I have no heirs. My previous wife – ah, wives – have been barren. Or I
am, I suppose. But that can’t be, because in my youth I sired many illegitimate
children on any number of serving girls.”

“Well, sir, is it possible that your age changed
your virility?” Kenna wished she could go back in time three seconds and make
herself bite her naughty tongue.

From the door immediately behind them, she heard
Olga and Elena tittering.
Spying!
She thought.

In response, Ramsay Macdonald just glared for a
moment and then said: “try that sort of wit again and you’ll be beaten.”

Kenna looked at the floor and let her eyes slide
across the richly carved baseboards to the stairs.

“Hm. We’ve less than a half hour until the
ridiculous charade begins. Please, come this way.” Macdonald offered the crook
of his arm to Kenna. “Oh, Orrick, could you do me a favor?”

“Yes sir, of course.”

“Show my bride to be the proper way to eat soup. I
don’t want her to be any more of an embarrassment than she already is. That
hair, it’s so red. So bright and colorful. If only it could be more
restrained,” he said.

“Of course, sir.” Orrick said.

Kenna took his hand, and they were only a
half-step past the Laird when Kenna felt a finger hook inside her collar, and
yanked her backwards, driving a gasp from her chest.

“You might be an embarrassment, and you might be
from a bad family, from a wild part of the world where no one decent would ever
want to go. That might all be true.”

Ramsay Macdonald lowered his head so close to
Kenna’s neck that she felt his breath as he inhaled her scent. A shudder crept
through her, then hitched in her throat.

“But even so, you’ll give me all the children I
want.” He squeezed her belly hard enough to hurt. “You’re mine forever, Kenna.
You may as well get used to it, because nothing is going to change this. Not
now, not ever. Understand?”

“Come along, Kenna,” Orrick said. “We’ve got much
to do before the party. If you’ll please excuse us, Laird Macdonald, we’ll be
on our way.”

Looking back as she felt the marble floor, cold
under her thinly-soled shoes, Kenna saw Ramsay Macdonald glaring at her, his
close-lipped grin menacing. Even with his spindly legs and great belly that
tested the buttons on his waistcoat, he was imposing.

“Don’t worry about him,” Orrick said. “As long as
he doesn’t grow angry with you, there’s nothing to fear. He’s too lazy for any
real cruelty. Smile at him. Now.”

Both of them flashed their best smiles at the man
at the top of the stairs who bowed with exaggerated depth, but never took his
hand off the baluster.

You’d best keep your hand on that thing, else
you’ll fall straight down these stairs, end over end,
Kenna thought,
and
no one would help you.

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“A
nd that’s about the extent of it. Do you have any
questions?” Orrick said. “And I mean about anything – the house or the event.”

“Why is he so hateful?”

“You’re direct. I miss that about the Highlands.”
He sighed. “There are many reasons, but none of them good, I’m afraid. I’ve run
Laird Macdonald’s business and social life since I was a young man , and as you
can see, I’m not no longer in the spring of my years.”

The old man smiled, his wrinkled face kind, and
lined where he smiled.

“You’ve been up north, then?”

“Aye, lass, I have.” Orrick allowed his brogue to
seep back into his voice. “I was not always Orrick the butler. But, that was
long ago. Another lifetime, it seems. A story for another time, perhaps. We’ve
got only a few moments before the guests start to arrive. Any questions you
have, ask them now while we’re alone.”

Kenna searched her mind. She had a whole bundle of
them, but as soon as she began to ask one, it slipped past her thoughts
forgotten.

“I know you’re nervous. Everythin’ will be fine,
wee li’l lass.”

Somehow, just hearing Orrick slip into his old
highland accent comforted Kenna.

“I just feel so alone,” she said. “I don’t know
anyone, I don’t want to be here, and I’m not sure if Gavin’s even alive.”

“Ach, who’s Gavin, then? An old flame?”

“Yes, well, I suppose that’s the best way to
explain it. We were never together; we lived on opposite ends of Fort Mary and
rarely saw each other save for festivals.”

“But you held a candle for him?”

“I did. And he gave me this.”

With a great deal of effort, Kenna yanked the
shriveled thistle flower in its flat glass circle, from her gown.

“Did he, then? That’s a serious thing to give
someone. He meant to make you his wife?”

“I don’t know if he really thought about that sort
of thing.” Kenna blushed as she thought that in a perfect world, or one that
was even slightly better, she’d be in Gavin’s arms right now, wherever he was,
instead of the lecherous clutches of Ramsay Macdonald.