Shared by the Highlanders (11 page)

“Ah, lass, but you do have your compensations. You purport to be able to cook, for one, though we’ve yet to see a great deal of evidence for that claim.”

I take the hint. “Right. Is that rabbit ready for me then?”

The conversation drifts to less pressing topics as we roast our supper and chew on the delicious slivers of tender meat. The mood is amiable, companionable, and all talk of switches averted. For now.

* * *

“Are you tired, lass?” Robbie reaches across to stroke the loose hair from my face.

I stretch and roll my shoulders. “Yes, and I ache in places I didn’t know I had.” The combined effects of being spanked, hours spent in the saddle, and energetic lovemaking. It’s been quite a day, all in all.

“Go on then, scramble into your pretty little yellow nest. We’ll clear up here.”

I get to my feet, yawning. “Oh? Aren’t you…? I mean, I thought we’d all share the tent.”

“We will. We’ll be in there with you soon enough.”

I nod, satisfied with that, and head for the tent.

“Oh, and Charlie,” I turn at Robbie’s voice. “You’ll sleep naked, aye?”

“Aye. Of course.” I lift the tent flap and duck inside.

I wake, some hours later, to pitch black outside and in, and the gentle sound of breathing on both sides of me. I am sandwiched between two large, hard, warm bodies, my nose pressed against Will’s bare chest, and Robbie spooning me from behind. I give a little wriggle, which earns me a soft tap on my bum and a growl from Robbie.

“Be still, lass.”

I don’t answer, just slide back toward him. His arms close around me, and I drift back to sleep.

* * *

We make good time over the following two days, and encounter little in the way of local population. An occasional shepherd, on one occasion a travelling tinker pushing a small handcart piled high with goods and trinkets. I would have been fascinated to examine his wares but Robbie and Will wouldn’t hear of it.

“That’s how news spreads, lass. That fellow only has to hear your speech to know there’s a stranger in the area, and it’ll be all over the north of England in a week.”

Robbie and Will take a lengthy detour to avoid Carlisle, a lawless border town in these times I gather, and head across the open countryside of the Scottish lowlands toward the ancient town of Stirling.

Although the queen apparently prefers the luxury of her palace at Holyrood in Edinburgh, the ancient royal fortress in Stirling offers her the security she needs right now. Will explains that she is in the final stages of pregnancy, her heir expected within the coming weeks. If the child is a boy, the succession for Scotland will be secure; if a girl, less certain. Will offers me a wry smile. He and I both know that I am well aware of the outcome here, though he will have to wait like the rest of the country to learn the sex of the baby. Although Mary herself is queen in her own right, in Will’s opinion her grasp of state affairs seems to be in some doubt, and her political sense more than a little overshadowed by her questionable taste in men. He shares the common view that Scotland requires firm government, and that can best be provided by a strong, male heir.

I bite back any feminist retort. These were different times, after all. And from what I know of Mary, queen of Scots, Will’s assessment may not be that far off the mark.

We travel during daylight, and I share one or the other of the horses. At night we snuggle up together in my tent. The men insist we all sleep naked and I have been treated to some truly delightful orgasms at the hands of one or the other of them, but there has been no repetition of the thrilling sensual episode we all three enjoyed that first morning together. I find myself somewhat disappointed and begin to wonder how I might instigate a little action.

“We need to sort out some proper clothes for you. Before we reach Stirling.” Robbie’s terse comment from behind me interrupts my reverie.

“Right.” I’d been thinking something along the same lines. While my outfit might be just the thing for twenty-first century fell-walking, a bright turquoise and grey waterproof anorak is not exactly common attire in sixteenth-century Scotland. “What do you have in mind?”

“I’m thinking we might be able to pass you off as a kinswoman of Will’s when we reach Stirling. Most of the clan Sinclair rarely venture south of Glencoe so there’s a reasonable chance we won’t be challenged on it. But we’ll need to dress you as a woman of this time. And come up with a decent name for you. Your odd way of speaking might be a problem, but perhaps we can say you were raised in France. They have some peculiar ways there, I gather.”

“Hmm, so where will we obtain this new outfit then?” I haven’t spotted much in the way of clothing shops on our travels. I leave the matter of my name for now.

“We could steal them, I suppose…” Will’s contribution to the conversation earns him a derisory snort from Robbie.

“Aye, and where do you think we’ll be stealing a noble woman’s garments from? You Sinclairs may get up to that sort of caper up in the wild Highlands, but in this part of the country we tend to leave our womenfolk relatively unmolested.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to take issue with that assertion, but on balance I decide it may be more prudent to remain silent.

“So, where then, if we’re not to offend delicate feminine sensibilities?”

“We’ll call and see Elspeth.”

Will groans.

“Elspeth has more fine gowns than she knows what to do with, and in the past it has been my understanding that she has not strenuously objected to removing them, though I’ll grant you know more of that than I do. I do believe she’ll spare us one or two. If you ask her nicely.”

More groaning.

“So that’s settled then.” Robbie sounds quite satisfied with his plan.

Will looks pained. I remain silent, wondering who this Elspeth might be and why Will appears so reluctant to relieve her of a gown.

Lady Elspeth Blair turns out to be a stunning woman, quite beautiful, even to me. Tall, statuesque, she watches from her porch as we canter up the flagged track leading to the steps of her grand manor house, several miles west of Edinburgh. Her hair is mostly covered in a fine, bright blue headdress, but a few strands of deep, rich brown are visible. She wears a fine gown of a paler shade, decorated by a loose belt fastened just below her waist with a silver buckle. Her clothing is of satin, or some such fabric, not the more usual wool I have observed as we passed through several Scottish villages and settlements on the way here. Heavily pregnant, our hostess is especially cordial in the welcome she offers to Robbie, though matters seem more strained between Lady Elspeth and Will.

“Robbie MacBride, where have you been? It must be three years at least since you were here. And have you encountered my husband on your travels at all?”

“Ah, Elspeth, beautiful as ever. Nay, I haven’t seen him, not recently. The last I heard though Duncan was in Edinburgh, attempting to keep Lord Darnley out of mischief. The queen trusts him to bring accurate reports of her husband’s escapades.”

“Aye, well, it would be nice to see my lord here once in a while, particularly if he could make it his business to do so before this little one joins our brood.” She strokes her swollen belly in an age-old gesture of protective devotion to the unborn child nestled there. “So, what brings you to my door this fine day? And who do you have with you?”

“You know Will Sinclair, of course…” Robbie gestures at our companion. Elspeth gives a curt nod.

“My lord, I trust you are well.”

Will shifts in his saddle, looking decidedly uncomfortable. “I am, thank you. And yourself, Lady Elspeth?”

“I do fine. As you can see, my responsibilities are somewhat pressing these days.”

“Indeed. And how fare your other children? Two, was it?”

She arches one fine eyebrow and offers Will a cool glare. “Three, all boys, and doing well, thank you. They grow more rowdy every day. I pray this one is a girl for I sorely need some civilised company here at Glen Blair.”

Robbie chuckles, clearly at ease despite the chilly greeting reserved for Will. “Well, perhaps we can keep you entertained for night or two, Elspeth. We would be glad of your hospitality. May I introduce our companion, Mistress Kelly, though she goes by the name of Charlie. She’s a mite odd, but we find her to be harmless enough. We were hoping you might be prevailed upon to lend her some suitable clothing, something which would not be out of place in Stirling.”

Elspeth tilts her chin up to regard the three of us, still mounted on horseback at the foot of her front steps. “So, Robbie MacBride, let me make sure I have the right of this. You arrive at my door unannounced and uninvited with him…” she pauses to glare once more at Will, then turns her attention back to Robbie, all sweet smiles, “…and with another travelling companion looking equally disreputable and who you describe to me as ‘odd,’ seeking food, shelter, and the pick of my wardrobe? Is that about the size of it?”

Robbie bows his head, his expression solemn, but for the gleam in his eyes. “Aye, Elspeth, you have it exactly. I can see why Duncan is content to apply himself to her majesty’s business, knowing he leaves his lands in such excellent care, though why else he would tarry in Edinburgh leaving you here alone is beyond me.”

Elspeth tilts a haughty chin, though her expression is equally amused. “Well, thank the Lord you’re here. I had feared today was going to be dull. Archie, take the horses around to the stable, lad. And you three, come inside. I’m sure we can find some food for you, as long as my own three hellions haven’t stripped the larder like the locusts they are.”

At Elspeth’s command, a lad of perhaps fourteen or fifteen rushes across the courtyard and seizes the reins of both mounts. Robbie relinquishes our horse to the stable boy’s care and slides to the ground. He holds his arms up for me to jump down too. Will also dismounts, and has the presence of mind to untie my rucksack from his saddle before allowing his horse to be led away. The three of us advance to the house. I extend a hand to Elspeth in greeting. I sense she could be a friend, and an important ally, despite her clear reservations about Will.

“Good afternoon. It’s so nice to meet you. I’m not especially odd, it’s just that I’m a stranger to this area.”

Robbie emits a sound somewhere between a cough and a growl. His expression is far from pleased. He and Will exchange a look that I would best describe as ominous.

Elspeth takes my hand and shakes it, a light frown on her otherwise lovely face. “Aye, I can tell that from your speech. Where are you from then, and how do you manage to find yourself travelling with these two?”

Ah, right, the six-million-dollar question.
I look from Robbie to Will in search of inspiration.

“It’s a complicated tale, Elspeth, and one we’ll share with you as best we can. We’ll be needing to rely on your discretion though.” Will steps up beside our hostess, a crooked smile on his face. “But first, could you and I make our peace? It’s been a long time since… well, since. And I know full well that you and Duncan are happy together, more so than you and I would have been.”

Ah, like that, is it?

“Well, that’s true enough. Even so, you’re a faithless bastard, Will Sinclair, and I really should take a horsewhip to you. I would too, if I could but summon the energy.”

“You’re absolutely right, there’s no point wasting your sweat on him, Elspeth. If it helps I’d be delighted to batter the worthless cur senseless for you.” Robbie makes his chivalrous offer, and I’m not convinced any of us really know if he’s joking or not.

Lady Elspeth Blair tosses her hair in another imperious gesture. “Thank you, Robbie. I will most certainly consider your kind proposal. I’ll do so while we eat. Please follow me, all of you.”

We are ushered into the manor house, Elspeth barking orders at her scurrying servants to produce warm food, light a fire in the main hall, and to make up guest rooms. A few minutes later we’re ensconced in her hall, with platters of chicken, mutton, and steaming vegetables emerging from the kitchens. Elspeth seats herself at the head and Will takes the seat to her right. Robbie takes the seat at her left, and I slip in beside him.

“Please, help yourselves. We can talk after your bellies are filled.”

The next few minutes are spent in silence as we sample the delicious fare put before us. The peace is shattered when we are joined by three small boys, who scramble onto chairs at the table and proceed to shovel food into their mouths and argue noisily, barely drawing breath between either activity. I can’t help but think their mother’s description of them as locusts was somewhat apt.

The lads are introduced to us as Duncan, aged five, Richard, aged four, and the youngest is Iain, at just two years old. They are grubby, wriggling little creatures, all three of them, and I wonder at Lady Elspeth’s description of me as disreputable. Still, a mother’s love and all that. Despite her earlier remarks, it’s clear that the boys do know who is mistress in this house and when she calls for silence they obey.

“Boys, we have guests. Please seek to comport yourselves as befits the sons and heirs of Lord Duncan Blair. And Richard, it would particularly please me if you could refrain from inserting boiled carrots into your brother’s ear. Thank you.”

The boys offer us a selection of friendly, gap-toothed grins. The oldest, Duncan, is keen to hear news of his father, and when that topic is exhausted engages Will in conversation about the existence of dragons in the woodland at the other side of the loch. I’m astonished at the depth of Will’s apparent knowledge on the subject, and the two seem to hit it off. Elspeth looks less than convinced at this budding friendship, but leaves them to it. I suspect her boys experience little enough in the way of adult male company, so even Will is better than nothing.

After they have eaten, the boys seek to excuse themselves and leave. Elspeth is having none of that and summons a tutor to collect them. The elderly gentleman looks somewhat harried, and I sympathise.