Betrayed Page 4

  It was two hours past noon, and time for the brides to depart with their new husbands. Their chests with their clothing and linens were lifted up by their new clansmen. Outside the house, Fiona turned over four cattle apiece to each of her brothers-in-law. "The dowry, paid in full," she said, and they accepted them, nodding in agreement. With each clan's piper playing and leading the way, the Forbeses and the Inneses departed down their respective sides of the ben, driving the beasts before them. The brides hugged Fiona, Jean, and Morag but once, then were happily gone, arms linked with those of their new husbands. The remaining Hay sisters stood with Flora and Tam until the sound of the pipes had faded completely. It had been a gray day, but they had not noticed until now.

  Flora sniffled, wiping her rheumy eyes with her apron. "God keep them safe, my bairns," she sobbed.

  "Now, then, old woman," her husband said gruffly, but Flora cut him short.

  "Don't ye scold me, Tam Hay!" she said fiercely. "Yer just as brokenhearted as I am, and don't ye attempt to deny it!"

  The Gordon clansmen were beginning to regroup in the clearing before the tower house. "It is time for us to go, too," Angus Gordon said to Fiona Hay. He turned to the elderly servants. "I would have ye stay here tonight. Pack the lassies' belongings, and tomorrow my brother will return with the men to bring ye to Brae."

  "Aye, my lord," they chorused, accepting his authority, and Flora curtsied to him.

  "Can we walk to Brae by nightfall?" Fiona asked him.

  "Jamie has left the horses at the foot of the ben," the laird told her. “Have ye ever ridden?"

  "The pony, but not often," Fiona admitted. "I would like to learn to really ride, my lord. Will ye teach me?"

  "Aye, lassie," he promised her, taking her hand in his. "I will teach ye to ride all manner of beasties before much more time has passed. Come, now, and let us go home to Brae." He turned and called to the two younger girls. "Jeannie, Morag, we are ready to go. Follow closely now, and don't get lost in the trees."

  "Will I ever come back here, my lord?" Fiona asked, suddenly unsure of herself for the first time. Had it been only yesterday when he had come into her life? Somehow it seemed much longer.

  "The ben is yers, lassie, as Dugald Hay's eldest child," he reassured her. "I'll keep it safe for ye, and I'll keep ye and yer sisters safe, too, but first we have a wee matter of payment for the eight cattle that have gone off down the ben with the Forbeses and the Inneses, and the four that went with the Keiths last autumn. Are ye ready to meet yer obligations, lassie?"

  "Aye," she said slowly, and her heart beat just a little faster as he squeezed her hand.

  Chapter 2

  Fiona Hay had never been farther from home than Glen Hay, a small valley separating the bens of Brae from her own mountain tower. They had walked down the treed slope to the glen, where the horses were waiting for them. The laird had casually ordered that two of his men take Jean and Morag up upon their mounts. Little Morag had gone, wide-eyed, with a big, red-bearded clansman, a man called Roddy, who lifted the little lass up and, giving her a kiss on the cheek, set her before him. Jean Hay, however, chose her own companion.

  "Take me up with ye, Jamie-boy," she wheedled the laird's brother, giving him her most winning smile.

  "And have all the lasses at Brae laughing at me for carrying a bairn like ye? I think not, Jeannie Hay." James Gordon was seventeen and thought himself quite a man.

  "Then I must walk all the way to Brae, for I'll ride with no other, Jamie-boy," Jean answered him boldly, not in the least discouraged by his rude refusal, or the fact that she was only ten.

  "Take her up with ye, Jamie-boy," Angus Gordon ordered his brother sternly. "We don't have time to stand here and argue." He bent, and lifted Fiona into the saddle before him. "Are ye comfortable?" he asked.

  "Aye." She nodded as they moved off. She had never been in such close proximity to a man before. The hard arm, firmly clasped about her narrow waist, was disconcerting, but even more confounding was that the only way she could be truly comfortable was to lay her head against his shoulder. The leather of his jerkin was soft against her cheek, its coolness offsetting the heat she felt in her face.

  "If ye don't breathe, Fiona Hay," he said to her as they rode, "ye'll soon swoon. There is nothing to be afeared of, lassie." He struggled with the urge to kiss the top of her head in its velvet chieftain's cap. What on earth was the matter with him?

  "I'm not afraid of ye, Angus Gordon," she replied. "I am simply in awe of so many new places and experiences. I've never been farther than the glen in all my life, and we only just came to the glen last year for the games. Our father didn't want confrontations with our grandfather." She drew a deep breath, blew it out gustily, and then she laughed up into his face. "Aye, that's much better!" she said.

  "Have ye any idea of what ye have really agreed to, Fiona Hay?" he asked, suddenly overwhelmed by a surprising wave of guilt. This was no simple peasant lass. This was a maid of good family. Despite her thievery, it had been as wrong of him to accept her brazen proposal as it had been for her to even make such a suggestion of payment to him. Yet had he not, he would have looked the fool before his men… before everyone. Now, however, he was having second thoughts.

  "Tell me exactly what I have agreed to, Angus Gordon," Fiona asked. "In truth I have never known a man. I have never even kissed one. I know a maidenhead is the most valuable possession of any woman. I know when it is lost outside of marriage a lass is not considered pure. I realize that in giving myself to ye I will not be fit to become any man's wife, but I don't mind. I promised my mam on her deathbed that I would see my sisters safely wed. It is great good fortune that my sisters have fallen in love with the men they married. My mam insisted that they not be sent to loveless marriages." She took a deep breath. "Now, tell me what I face."

  The simply spoken frankness of her words, said without any remorse, or even a touch of self-pity, impressed him. He realized that Fiona Hay was as proud as he was. She would insist upon keeping the bargain she had made with him. She would never admit to having stolen his cattle, he suspected, but her innocent willingness to meet her obligation to him stemmed from an innate honesty. Only Fiona's deep desire to keep her promise to the desperate, dying Muire Hay had driven the lassie to the pilferage of his herds. He should have looked to the welfare of Ewan Hay's young granddaughters before he had so casually annexed the glen to the Gordon holdings. Perhaps if he had, this situation would not have arisen.

  "My lord?" She looked anxiously into his handsome face.

  "Between yer legs," he began slowly, "is an opening into yer body. 1 will join my body with yers through that opening." He didn't know how else to explain it to her. He wasn't certain there was another way.

  Fiona looked a trifle confused. "How?" she asked him. "How will ye join yer body to mine, Angus Gordon? Certainly there is something ye are not telling me." A small chuckle escaped her. "This is as hard for ye as it is for me, I expect. I don't imagine that ye have ever had to make such an explanation to a lass before."

  He laughed, almost relieved by her practical approach to the whole matter. “No, sweetheart, I have never had to explain bedsport to a maid, and yer right. I have forgotten something. We will be joined by an appendage that all men are blessed with."

  "I think I have heard of such a thing," Fiona said thoughtfully. "Is it called a manhood?"

  "Aye," he answered. "Where did ye hear of one before?"

  "When our sister, Anne, married Duncan Keith, she came after a few months to tell us that she would have a bairn by Lammas next. I asked her if she was still happy with her man. She said, aye, she was, that Duncan has a verra fine manhood, and kept her happy. I asked her what a manhood was, but Annie just laughed. She said 'twas not for a maiden to know such things and that when I wed would be time enough for me to learn about manhoods."

  "I have told ye enough for now," Angus said. "Ye will learn by example, Fiona Hay, but I promise ye that I will not be rough with ye. There
are certain men who enjoy being cruel, but I am not one."

  When they had finally reached the shores of Loch Brae, Angus Gordon drew his horse to a stop so she might see the castle in all its beauty. He loved his home deeply and never grew weary of it, happy to remain there. "Brae Castle," he told her.

  Fiona caught her breath in wonderment. She had never in all her life imagined such a beautiful place.

  Brae Castle had been built in the year 1295, in the reign of John Balliol. This unfortunate king had sworn his fealty to the English king, Edward I, better known in Scotland as the Hammer of the Scots. The castle was situated on an island just off the north shore of an inland loch. The loch was considered small in comparison to the more famous lakes of Scotland, but it was big enough, being almost a mile and a half across at its widest point and four miles in length, for protection.

  The island was connected to the shore by a wooden bridge. The builder of the castle had originally thought to construct the bridge of the same stone as the castle, but his wife, the legend went, had pointed out that in case of an attack, an enemy could march easily over a fine stone bridge right up to the doors of the castle, whereas a wooden bridge could be torched, making it difficult for an enemy to reach the island.

  The area between the bridge and the castle itself was kept in field. There were no trees or large bushes behind which an intruder might hide. The shoreline had no sandy beach. It was very rocky, making it difficult to gain the land unless one came over the bridge itself, or via boat to the small landing on the south side of the castle, which was guarded round the clock.

  The laird nudged his horse around a bend in the shore to the bridge that connected with the castle, and they crossed over. Grooms came to take the Gordon brothers' horses as they clattered into the stone courtyard. The laird dismounted, lifting Fiona down, setting her gently upon her feet. He then took Morag, who was already half-asleep, from Roddy. The little girl's head fell heavily against his shoulder. Angus Gordon handed her to a young maidservant, who hurried from the house, instructing her where the child was to be put to bed.

  "Jean will share the chamber with her," he told Fiona, who looked about for her.

  Jean still sat upon James Gordon's horse. "Will ye not help me down, Jamie-boy?" she cooed at him, her amber gaze soft and inviting.

  The young man flushed beet-red, and with obviously gritted teeth he reached up and set her upon the pavement. "How old is this wench?" he demanded of Fiona.

  "Ten," she replied. "Why do ye ask?"

  "She is not ten," he muttered balefully. "And if she is, she is possessed by the demon of a well-versed courtesan. Ye would not believe the things she said to me as we rode down the ben."

  "Jeannie!" her elder sister said, scandalized by the young man's words. "What have ye done? And what did ye say to James Gordon?"

  "Only that when I was older I wanted to lay with him," Jean Hay replied sweetly. "He is verra bonnie, is he not, Fi?"

  "Jean Hay, ye will remain chaste until I find a good husband for ye," her sister said in her most severe tones.

  "Oh I don't mean to be his mistress like ye will be the laird's mistress," Jean said blandly. "I mean to marry Jamie-boy one day, Fi. I think he will make a grand husband!"

  "I'd never wed a bold baggage like ye!" James Gordon declared.

  "Aye, ye will," Jean told him calmly. "When I finally get my titties grown, ye'll not be able to resist me, Jamie Gordon. Just ye wait and see." She smiled sweetly at him.

  "Jean Hay," the laird said sternly, "ye'll behave yerself, or I will personally paddle yer skinny little rump. I can see ye'll need to be kept busy while yer in my custody, and busy I shall see yer kept. Now, follow along after Giorsal, who will show ye yer chamber. If yer hungry tell her, and she will bring ye food."

  "Thank ye, my lord," Jean said, not in the least put off by the scolding she had received. "Good night, Jamie darlin'," she said, and hurried after the maidservant carrying little Morag.

  Rolling his eyes to the heavens, James Gordon disappeared toward the stables, and only when both of them were out of earshot did the laird burst out laughing. "He has not a chance against her." He chortled. " 'Tis not a bad idea either, unless, of course, in the next four years either of them falls in love with another. Would ye accept James for yer sister Jean, Fiona?''

  "If he learns to love her, aye. I've never known Jeannie to behave so boldly," she said apologetically.

  "She knows what she wants," he told her with a smile, leading her into the house. "Still, she will have to obey me while she lives under my roof. How old was she when yer father died?"

  "Five," Fiona said, "but she remembers little about him. Ye see, he was disappointed when I was born, but I was his first child, and he loved me in his strange way despite the fact that I was not the son he so desperately desired. I think he felt a wee bit of guilt for the manner in which I was said to have been conceived. I was born nine months to the day my parents were married. I think he always believed I was the result of his rape of my mother, and I may have well been."

  "Ye know the whole story?" the laird asked, a trifle shocked.

  "Aye," Fiona nodded. "Flora and Tam were my mother's personal servants since her childhood at Hay House. They hated Dugald Hay with all their hearts for what he did to my mother. Because he loved me, they made certain that I knew his sins, for they did not want me growing up estranged from my mam. But my father was not so loving of any of his other daughters. Each one was a reminder to him that unless he sired a son on my mam, he could not have the glen. We kept my sisters out of his sight as much as possible," Fiona told the laird. "If any of them came too close to him, he was just as apt to beat them for their mere existence as for any fault they might have. He slapped Anne so hard once that she lost a tooth, but she was young and another grew in its place, praise God! Jeannie and Morag, being the youngest, hardly knew him at all, and are not used to men in their lives. I think ye'll take some getting used to, Angus Gordon."

  He laughed again, escorting her into the Great Hall.

  A tall, austere-looking man hurried forth. "Welcome home, my lord!" His bright blue eyes fastened upon Fiona Hay. "I understand that ye have caught the thief who was pilfering yer cattle."

  "Indeed I have, Aulay, and I have been offered payment in full for the cattle. The matter is closed. This is Mistress Fiona Hay. She and her sisters are now in my custody. They were all alone upon Ben Hay with only two old servants in attendance. She and her two little sisters are safer here at Brae. Her servants will arrive tomorrow. They are elderly. See they are made comfortable." He then turned to the girl by his side. "This is Aulay, my steward, Mistress Hay. He will assign a maid to ye."

  "Nelly, I would think," the steward said, his blue eyes twinkling. "She is a young lass, too, but she has more sense, I'm thinking."

  "Indeed?" Fiona said sharply. She would not be cowed by any man, but particularly not by a servant.

  "Aye," Aulay responded calmly.

  "Don't try to get the upper hand with Aulay," the laird warned Fiona. "He's been at Brae since the day of its creation, I think, and is the real power here, are ye not, old friend?"

  "If my lord says so," the steward said with a small smile and a bow.

  "Are ye hungry, lassie?" the laird asked, and Fiona nodded. "Come," he said, leading her to the high board and seating her.

  Almost at once their goblets were filled with a fine red wine such as Fiona had never tasted. It had a fragrant bouquet to it, and she drank half her portion before she even realized it. Platters were set before them. One held thinly sliced salmon on a bed of greens. Another contained a fat duck, and the third a haunch of venison. A loaf of hot bread was brought, along with a small tub of sweet butter and a half wheel of hard cheese. There was a bowl of small green peas. Fiona's eyes widened. She had never seen so much food and so much variety on a table in her life. Meals at Hay Tower had always been simple. One dish, bread, a vegetable if she could find one. She ate heartily and unabashedly, taki
ng from each platter and dish, devouring half the loaf herself, and almost half of the sweet apple tartlet that was brought to conclude the meal. She downed two cups of wine without so much as a blink.

  The laird watched her with a mixture of awe and amusement. He had never seen a woman of such good appetite. "Ye enjoyed yer meal?" he asked her with droll understatement.

  Fiona smiled blissfully, her green eyes narrowing, catlike. "Aye! I've never had such a feast. Do ye eat this way every day, my lord?"

  He nodded, and then said, laughing, "But ye canna, sweetheart, or ye'll grow as plump as the cattle ye stole from me."

  She laughed with him. "No," she promised him. "The women in my family don't run to fat, my lord."

  "I'll be watching ye closely, Fiona Hay," he teased her.

  "How many servants do ye have?" she asked him.

  "Ye met Aulay," he began. "His wife, Una, is my housekeeper. Beathag is the cook, and she has a helper, Alice. There are four maidservants, and when we need them several of my clansmen help within the castle. There are stableboys, a gamekeeper, several herdsmen, and some others I canna remember, lassie."

  "With all those mouths to feed," she wondered, "will there really be room for Flora and Tam, my lord?"

  "Aye," he reassured her. "Aulay will be happy to have Tam to help him, and Flora must look after yer sisters as she has always done. I will give her Giorsal to help her, for I can see the old woman is a wee bit frail now, but I will not relinquish her duties out of loyalty to yer late mother, may God assoil the sweet soul of Muire Hay."

  "Thank ye, Angus Gordon. Yer a good man," Fiona said quietly.

  He flushed at her words. She almost made him feel in her debt instead of the other way around. "Ye will want to go to yer chamber now, lassie," he told her. He looked about for someone to show Fiona the way, and Una seemed to materialize out of a dark corner of the hall.

  "I will show Mistress Hay, my lord," Una said. Like her husband, she was tall and spare. "Come, lassie. Ye’ll want a bath, I've no doubt, to rid yerself of the stink of the horses and yer journey."