FLAME ACROSS THE HIGHLANDS (21 page)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Glenna stared out the window, watching as the small hunting party  led by her father left the castle.  The number of guests for the betrothal  festivities of his daughter had
depreciated a goodly portion of the store of food, thus Lachlan MacQuarie and a few of his men were of necessity out after more.  It offered Glenna a reprieve, a haven from her father's piercing eyes and seemingly just in time.  Pretending to be Brianna was a far more difficult thing to manage than either she or Brie had ever thought it would be.  Twice today, while pretending to be Brianna, she'd nearly muddled it, wilting under her father's frown when he  glanced her way. 

T
here is more to acting like Brie than just wearing men's clothes occasionally, she thought.  It was the way her sister held her chin up, the toss of her hair, her jovial banter with the men, her laughter.  This morning at breakfast Glenna had nearly given herself away while masquerading as her sister. She had looked longingly at Alastair several times, then caught herself. And then when her father had invited her to join in the hunt she had said no far too quickly, flushing under his stare. Brianna would have said yes all too readily.

Only
by pretending illness had she escaped questioning.  Fleeing up the stairs, she hurriedly changed her clothes, then entered the hall again as Glenna. She had given out the story that Brianna was ill and had taken to her bed. But even that had nearly come to a woe when the clan healer insisted he take a look at her twin.  Playing a dual role was definitely not easy. Glenna had bounded into Brianna’s bed, pulling the quilts up to her chin. Somehow she had been able to fool the MacLay, albeit suffering distress when she had been forced to drink one of his herbal concoctions. Disgusting! But it had saved the moment. But how long could she pretend? How long would it be before someone questioned the fact that although the girls were very, very close, they never seemed to be together anymore?

"Oh, Brian
na, hurry back, hinny.  Please."  If truth be known, she missed her.  Brianna brought warmth with her smiles.  Being with her was like basking in the sun.  Without her it was as cold and desolate as winter.  Indeed, she'd only been gone four days and already Glenna missed her. "Och, Brie, I wish ye well but hurry home!"

So far, the last four days had been hectic, thus it had been easy to pretend. Everyone in the castle had been recuperating from the guests and getting ready for the hunt; not even Orianna knew the truth. But what would she do tomorrow? And the tomorrow after that? Everyone knew that she and Brie were often
together. How would she ever explain? She would have to think of something. But right now her concern was for Brie.

Would Brianna be successful in getting
Duncan to change his mind about the betrothal?  As to her own happiness, that was a different matter.  Things had gone from bad to worse in a short span of time.  Angered by her revelation of affection for Alastair, Lachlan MacQuarie had forbidden his daughter to see the bard.  When they were together in the same room she had to act as if he wasn't there, and he in turn kept his eyes from making contact with hers.  Even so, they were achingly aware of each other's presence nonetheless, and that in itself created heartache.

For the time being the only time Glenna could be happy was
alone in her bedchamber, succumbing to her dreams. Only in her fantasies did she dare give vent to her love.  From the first moment her eyes were closed she envisioned Alastair, felt the stirring touch of his mouth, the fire of his hands on her body.  Her dreams were so vivid, so feverish that she awakened trembling, half expecting to find his handsome face beside hers on the pillow.  Instead she always knew the disappointment of finding herself  alone. Was there any hope?  Brianna had insisted that there was, had promised to aid her when she returned. Until then, Glenna realized she would have to be content with only dreams.  Aye, Alastair was speaking true when he said the world was a cruel place for lovers.

"Ah, Alastair. Alastair."
Wrapping her arms around her waist, she laid her head against the cold stone and gave in to tears of frustration.  Oh, how could her father be so stubborn. So hardhearted? How could he resign her to a loveless marriage when happiness was just within her reach? She lamented, burying her face in her hands. She was roused from her sadness by a soft tapping.

"Glenna!  Open the door."
Alastair's voice. Glenna hurried to comply, smiling at the sight of his handsome face.

"Father and the others hae left."

"I know.  I saw." Pushing through the portal he gathered her in his arms. "At least for a little while we can be together." He nuzzled her neck, breathing in the fragrance of her hair. “Glenna..Glenna.  Ye'll never know how much I long for ye."

Glenna looked into the depths of his eyes and was lost.  "Aye, to the contrary, perhaps I do."  It was as though some strange malady possessed her, for she was giddy with love.  Oh, to be his wife.  Why must that be such an impossible dream?
Why could it not be lovers who ruled the world?

Leaning her head against his shoulder she gave herself
up to the touch of his fingers, his lips, whispering words of love and  in return received them. Oh, how soft were his lips, she thought.   A warm glow filled her body and she pressed herself against him, wishing to make this moment last forever.  Feverishly, she clung to him, her breasts pressed against his chest.  Their mouths met and caressed; she could feel their hearts beating as one.

"Glenna!  Sweet, sweet, Glenna," he said at last, his voice thick with passion.  His fingers swept down to cup one firm, budding breast and then it seemed his hands were everywhere, touching her, setting her body ablaze. Then
, just as suddenly he pushed away. "Nae, I canna tumble ye like some common maid.” 

“I don’t care. I only know I….”

“I am not a mon to take advantage.” He took her hand, laying her fingers on his face. “No matter how desperate our love.”

Alastair knew the consequences were Glenna to marry and not be able to offer proof to her husband of a maidenhead.  Still, the beds in the middle of the room were tempting
, even more so since Alastair shared the secret of Brianna’s journey. Dear God, he wanted her so that he lost all reason. He wanted to be away from here, from the restrictions her father imposed. MacQuarie wasn’t the only clan leader. There were others scattered throughout the land. He was a skilled bard. Surely there were other clan chieftains who would take him in. But no, he could not separate himself from his sweet lassie. It was just as difficult for her as for himself. She needed someone to depend on, particularly since Brianna had gone.

So thinking, he made an impassioned plea, tightening his grip on her hand. “We must hae patience. Together we will see this ting through. Yer father is a stubborn mon to be sure, but even he must see how much we need each other.”

Glenna hung her head. “I dinna think he will be changing his mind.”

Alastair thought the same, for
Lachlan was a strong-willed chief, but he sought to bolster her spirits. Glenna reminded him of a newly birthed lamb, so soft and gentle. She needed him. “We’ll wait. If yer sister would bear the mon a grandson perhaps all would change. Aye, then there would be a male heir.” He laughed. “Or perhaps even twins.”

“Aye. I do hope Brie can marry her Ian. I wish for her a great deal of happiness. And I wish for us the same.” Her eyes misted but she smiled through her tears. “We can only be patient, Alastair. It is our only hope. Twins! Like Brianna and me!”

“Aye, bonnie wee boys!” He kissed her lightly on the cheek, then dew away. “In the meantime, hinny, I pledge my love to you.”

“Father will change his mind, ye’ll see. Brianna made me a promise.” She wasn’t sure she really believed that even Brianna could elicit a promise from
Lachlan, but she wanted to soothe him. Didn’t want him to lose all hope. The thought of Jeanne hovering around the hearth like a prowling cat, scorching Alastair with her heated gaze, was ever at the back of Glenna’s mind. Men were said to be passionate creatures, goaded on by their lust. How long before Alastair gave in?

“Aye, Brianna will see that he changes his mind.” His voice was choked with emotion. “I dinna know how much longer I can wait. I want ye so.” With a rueful smile he kissed her one last time, then fearful of what might happen were he to stay, left as quickly as he had come.

Watching as his shadowed form flitted down the hall, Glenna was filled with thoughts of desperation. What if her father pledged her hand to someone else before Brianna returned? Could she face that moment if it came? She shuddered at the thought, missing Brianna all the more, wishing more than ever that her sister would hurry back. Brianna was her only hope. 

Chapter Twenty-Five

Fires blazed brightly in every room throughout the castle, yet even so Brianna felt cold. The very thought of her predicament sent a chill traveling up her spine, wondering just what Duncan Campbell was up to. What were his motives in holding her here? In truth, there seemed to be no purpose, for by his denial of her wish to marry Ian, he reaffirmed her contract with his younger nephew. She would be held to her word. Even so, he had acted troubled, as if he was apprehensive about the marriage negotiations because of her request. He did in fact seem as obsessed with the upcoming wedding as men usually were for a battle. Enough so to take the chance of angering her father by holding his daughter against her will.  It made no sense at all. He spoke in fact of hastening the wedding as if he foresaw trouble.  Why did he see her coming here as such a threat? She found Duncan Campbell's behavior exceedingly strange. He was not at all as reasonable as her father!

Brianna sat on the edge of the soft feather bed in her chamber pondering her fate, reflecting on her time spent here.  She'd been given a comfortable chamber on the second floor, had been treated with deference, yet she chaffed at being anyone's prisoner. 
Aye, but she was as out of place as a hen among geese in the Campbell Laird’s hall. How then would she expect that any one of them would have a care as to her fate?

Though she was made comfortable, well fed, given pretty garments to wear, she felt ill at ease.  Right from the first she had realized how different these clansmen were from her own, as were their women.  They dressed differently,
the men covering their legs with trews, the women favoring a
curraichd
of linen over their heads and
tonnages
around their shoulders instead of arasaids. They talked the Scots language, which was a blending Ian said of Gaelic and French, instead of pure Gaelic, and they stared openly at her.  Association with the English had made them different, though they shared a Celtic background with her own clan.

But
Brianna was not totally unhappy.  Quite  the contrary.  Something in Ian's expression, a determined  tilt to his chin gave her hope.  He did still want her, his every look told her that.  When she had proposed that she marry Ian and not the younger Campbell nephew, she had seen his wry smile. Nor had she been deaf to the arguments between Duncan Campbell and his nephew, all because of her. Ian had been adamant in his bantering. It was the one thing that made this entire episode worthwhile, just knowing he
did
care. Moving from the bed, putting her ear to the door, she could hear another heated conversation now, the timbre of the voices rumbling  below in the hall.

"I ask you for the tenth time, marry the lassie to me!"

"And I tell ye for the tenth time, nae!  Brianna nic Lachlan is to be Robbie's bride."

"And will you hold her here until she
agrees? Is that what you plan. To hold the lassie prisoner until the wedding? Is it?"

Duncan
's voice lowered to a whisper and Brianna strained her ears to hear his answer.  Just what did he intend to do?  For two days now she had been the Campbell's
guest
, given free access to all of the rooms but confined to the castle. Strange also was that despite his avowal that he meant for her to marry his younger nephew, she had not been introduced to her intended bridegroom. Was The Campbell so sure that she would find him unfavorable? And if so, why?

"Are you not afraid of what Lachla
n MacQuarie will say and do?" Opening the door, Brianna crept slowly down the stairway, hoping to hear Duncan Campbell's answer.  Oh, she had bluffed him unerringly, espousing threats that her father would show retribution for her being incarcerated behind the wood and stone walls.  Had it worked? Or had it merely goaded him to hurry with his plan? Approaching the large room where Ian and Duncan haggled, she craned her neck.

"Good morrow!"  A voice behind her startled her.  Turning around she found herself face to face with a tall
, comely freckle-faced lad with auburn hair. His smile offered friendship. "Don’t worry. I won’t tell Duncan ye were eavesdroppin’”

“I wasna…” she shrugged her shoulders. “By
gorach
, I was.”

“I’ve been known to do the same. It’s a human trait, I suppose, to be curious. There’s no harm done.” He cocked his head. “
I've ne'er seen ye before.  Who are ye?"

She answered boldly. "Brianna nic Lachlan of the clan
MacQuarie!"  As she spoke the young man turned quite pale.

"So ye are the one!" 

"The
one
?"  A prickly feeling traveled up her spine as if for just a moment she had the fey.  "Who are ye?" she asked, somehow knowing what he would say.

"Robbie Campbell!"

"Rob....!"  The man she was to marry.  Certainly not homely, yet oh so
young
!  Not more than a boy.  There was not even the first fuzz of a beard on his face. He was not much more than a boy, she mused, eyeing him. Though she found him soothing to the eyes, he truly inspired no passion in her heart, though a stirring of deep liking pricked her.  Taking a step back, she appraised him as he likewise scrutinized her. He most certainly did not favor the Campbell clan, she thought. He must take after his mother’s side then. The wide eyes were brown not blue, the hair a deep reddish brown not black, the face was thin not angular.  Whereas Duncan's and Ian's noses were straight, Robbie Campbell's turned up at the tip. He was reed thin, his legs long, but somehow his frame gave the impression of strength.  Most importantly, his face seemed to show character, a gentleness of spirit.

"Ye are a bonnie lassie, Brianna.  Ye would do me honor to be my wife.
"  Why then did he sound so sad?

"And ye would make any lassie proud but....."  She read the truth in his eyes.  "But yer heart is taken by somebody else!" 

There was a long period of silence as if he was wrestling with his conscience before he answered, "Aye!  A young lassie I meet when I can. She’s a MacDonald."  He shyly reached out to touch her arm. "But it will come to naught, I promise."

"Because yer Uncle has stubbornly insisted that ye marry me?"

“I wouldna put it quite that way.” She’d flustered him, for he stood wringing his hands.

“But if ye had yer choice ye’d marry yer dearie. Answer truthfully, ye’ll no’ hurt my feelings.” Brianna’s smile prompted him to speak the truth.

"Aye."  Thick brows shot up as he quickly tried to soothe her pride.   "But  I dinna mean to wound yer feelings.  Now that I hae seen ye it doesna seem a quarrelsome prospect.  And for my part, I would always treat ye kindly.  I would ne'er be an unfaithful, unkind or careless husband."

"But ye would ra
ther marry wi' yer lassie...." Brianna laughed softly, hurrying to ease his mind.  "I find myself in the same predicament."  Her voice lowered conspiratorially.  "I too am in love wi' someone else."

A wide unabashed smile cut across the young man's face.  "Ye are?"

Brianna nodded her head.  There was no use denying it. "That’s why I came here.” She looked at him from beneath her lashes. “And does yer lassie feel the same for ye?"

"She told me so.
And yer laddie?"

"
He’s asked unsuccessfully for me, but yer uncle is just too stubborn.” Putting her hands on her hips, she sniffed indignantly. “And it seems to me a terrible thing to make so many people unhappy." 

“Aye, perhaps it does.”

At last I have an ally
, she thought hopefully. Surely if  Robbie didn’t really want her it would make it that much easier to give argument for the marriage. At least she had a ray of hope. "So what should we do about it?"

Robbie Campbell didn't answer.  Instead his eyes were focused at a point behind her back.  Slowly
, Brianna turned around and was not at all surprised to find Duncan standing there. "What are ye doing here, Robbie?  Ye should be out collecting the
cain
."  Brianna knew this to be the rent, the first fruits of a
septs
portion of the land. 

"I've finished."
Taking off his flat bonnet, Robbie Campbell tugged at the deer bone that held the tuft of wild myrtle, the clan’s badge, in place.  Clearly, his uncle unnerved him.  A twitch to the lad's jaw gave proof that he was trying to keep his emotions under control. Brianna was reminded strangely of her father in the lad's manner, and that made her laugh to think so about a Campbell..

"Ye are finished?"
The tone in Duncan’s voice was stern.

"Aye, and its glad I am, for at last I hae met a bonnie lassie." Robbie Campbell smiled at Brianna.  "The
MacQuarie did me proud."

Duncan
grunted. “I suppose….” He did not seem to be pleased to find his nephew talking with his intended.  Strange, Brianna thought.  He'd been so insistent that they wed, she would have thought he would have been overjoyed to find they had gotten along so well on this, their first meeting.  Instead, he seemed anxious to pull Robbie away from her.

"I came to refresh myself wi' a cup of ale.  It's a wee mite hot outside, Uncle." 

Duncan nudged and poked, guiding young Robbie toward the door. "Then come along!" His manner was stiff as he put his arm around the lad's shoulders.  There was no warmth in his eyes for the young man, Brianna thought, no camaraderie in the way he led him back to the hall.  Certainly, Duncan Campell showed little affection for his nephew.  How sharply that contrasted with her father and the way he treated his kin.  In fact, she found herself feeling sorry for Robbie Campbell.  Duncan looked at the young man with a stern countenance that seemed to border on dislike.  Why?  And why, if he was so anxious for her to marry his nephew, had he so quickly hustled the laddie away?