Tarnished Honor (2 page)

Connall had dismounted during the introduction and stood before her. Taking her delicate hand in his, he brought it to his sensuous lips placing a light kiss upon it. “A pleasure, my lady.” He straightened to his six-foot four inch height smoothly, towering over her diminutive five-foot three. He turned to Angus.

“I and my men journey home. We ask for a roof over our heads this eve and, perhaps, a hot meal.
Porridge will do if it be hot.” Fergus cleared his throat behind him. Wit
h
out hesitation he went on. “I would ask for a hot bath and some broth be delivered to my chambers and warm clot
h
ing that will fit a four-year old bairn
,
if it be possible.”

Without waiting for an answer, he retrieved the child from his squire’s arms and made to enter the keep. Brighde rushed forward disregarding the mud and stench emanating from his bundle. She stroked the bairn’s brow checking for fever.

“She has nae fever. What ails her sir?” She glanced up in question.

Connall was impressed with this tiny lass. Most lady’s would back away and order their servants to tend the child…like her uncle just did. She had spirit. “I suspect she is weak from hunger…naught more.”

“I will make the arrangements. Please bring her out of this cool air before she catches a chill.” She spun around and led the way to a warm bedchamber where a bath was being prepared. “Lily, would ye please find some clothing that will fit this bairn?”

“Aye, m’lady.” She bobbed and rushed from the room.

As Brighde began to peel away the filthy clothes, Co
n
nall observed her lack of concern of the mud mussing her clothing. It was rare, indeed, to find someone so self-effacing…
and
beautiful. He wished to know more.

“Ye do nae have your servants tend her…even though the tending will ruin your gown.” It was not a question.

She blushed, suddenly conscious of his presence. “Nay. My gown is of no consequence and she needs a ge
n
tle touch. My father always told me ‘if ye want it done right…do it yourself’.” She shrugged. “Who is the lass?”

Connall peered at her, determining his answer. The squalor he had recently witnessed could not have been her doing. The blame must
rest
with her uncle.

“Her name is Amy. Our paths crossed recently on my journey home. Her parents had died and she has no other kin so I have made her my ward. When she is grown I will find her a good match. Fergus perhaps
.

She looked at him with disapproval.
Another man who thinks he kens what is best!
Perhaps arrogance is inbred in the male speci
es.

“Ye disapprove? Why would that be? If I had nae i
n
tervened she would die.”

She shook her head of sable tresses. “Tis nae that. It is the self-importance of discerning ye ken what is best when a lass weds…or who she weds.”

He grinned openly revealing even white teeth. Co
n
nall’s smile devastated her senses. She sucked in a deep
inhalation
as she remembered to breath.
A hot flash streaked through her.

Intrigued, he decided to inquire deeper. “Has your u
n
cle betrothed ye to someone ye do nae approve of?”

“Nay, he can nae. Father deemed that I will select my own husband. He put it in writing so none could contest its validity.” She smiled sadly. “He loved me very much. U
n
cle keeps pushing men in front of me lately, though. It is as if he wants me gone quickly.” She shook her head. “I do nae
understand
it.”

Connall arched his dark brow in surprise. That was, i
n
deed, highly unusual.
“Ye have met none that ye can a
p
prove of to wed?”

She scoffed.
“Uncle Angus has paraded many men in front of me. I have seen none that possess honor…who va
l
ues it above all else!” Amy awoke just then, confused of her whereabouts. She struggled to escape Brighde’s arms.

Connall knelt before her speaking in a soothing voice. “Be still, mo cridhe, all is well. Would ye like to play in some warm water?”

Amy’s blue eyes rounded in wonder at his words. She had never been allowed to play in warm water before.
He spread his arms and she wrapp
ed hers tightly about his neck
, squealing
with delight as he lowered her gently into the silky liquid.

Brighde’s heart warmed as she watched them frolic t
o
gether, the layers of dirt and grime magically disappearing
, along with the tension she had noticed in Connall’s shou
l
ders.

It was not long before the water was almost black. He lifted her from the tub, wrapping her in a huge linen drying cloth.

His hand instantly covered his heart at the transfo
r
mation. “I do declare, Mistress Amy, ye are a beautiful lass! I will wear out my blade beating off your suitors one day!”

She giggled behind her hand at his theatrics.
Brighde spoke up just then.

“If ye will allow me, Amy, I will be pleased for a chance to brush your fiery hair…and, perhaps find ye something to eat. It will give Lord Canmore a chance to refresh himself.”

Amy glanced over at Connall and he gave a curt nod. “Tis alright, lass. I will see ye befor
e ye retire.” He gave her a hug and whispered,
“I will nae leave ye behind…do nae fear.”

She took Brighde’s hand as she offered it and they left the chamber in search of her own.

As the servants bustled about to prepare his bath, Fe
r
gus entered
to tend to his needs. He had removed his armor earlier himself, but needed his squire’s aid to strip off the wet clothing that was plastered to his skin.

“Have the men returned?”

“Aye, m’laird. All is as it should be.” He frowned as he unveiled Connall’s side. “Your wound has been weeping a bit.”

He grunted. “Ye can tend it after my bath.” His mind wandered
back to Brighde
as he soaked out his aches in the tub.
She was good with the bairn. There was gentleness in her touch…along with a silent strength. Her beauty was surpassed by none he knew. If he had a mind to
take
a wife, she would be the one he would want. It was a pity that her father gave her such power over her life. No doubt the tales about him
did not include honor.
Not that he was not ho
n
orable. But tales often expand into small lies to make it more interesting…and hang the honor! He sighed. No doubt Brighde would not find him suitable either…if he w
ere
searching for a wife.

* * *

Angus sat by the hearth in the great hall sipping his ale as he
contemplated how to turn Blacksword’s visit into a boon for him.
The Earl is very wealthy but how can I co
n
vince him to purchase a wife? He can have his pick of las
s
es and they would have dowries to give to him.
Then it struck him! Honor! He had heard about how honorable Blacksword was. He could use it to play against him.
But how?
An idea began to form in his mind as a devious smile encroached his lips. He called for the cook as he rubbed his palms together greedily.

“Ye look like the fox that invaded the henhouse.”

Angus swore an oath. He had forgotten all about St
e
phen Ross! No matter. They could both bid for her hand.
He grinned at the man standing before him. He was near as tall as Connall but more stout in build. His ash-colored hair reached just past his shoulders. He had a fair face
,
as far as looks went, but his eyes always made Angus
’
skin crawl
. The gray orbs looked soulless to him. Truth be known, he probably
was
without a soul. After all, he had been wed four times and four times they had died.
He mentally shrugged. What Stephen did with his niece after they wed was of no concern to him.

He slapped Stephen on the shoulder good-naturedly as he announced his news. “Aye, perhaps. We have an add
i
tional guest this eve…Blacksword.”

“Blacksword? Did he mention why he was here?” His eyes narrowed in suspicion as he peered at him. It would be just like Fraser to call in ano
ther suitor to play against him, and the Earl’s coffers were much richer than his own. If Angus thought to play him for a fool he would pay with his life! He wanted Brighde…and he was determined to have her.

Angus shrugged nonchalantly. “He is on his way home to
H
alkirk and sought shelter for this eve. How could I r
e
fuse?
” He watched Stephen slyly from the corner of his eye. “If there be any other business, he has nae mentioned it.”

Ross looked at him shrewdly. He knew the man plotted something. It was his nature. He did not trust him.

* * *

Connall found Lady Brighde and his ward in the nurs
e
ry, cuddled together in a chair near the blazing hearth. She held a finger before her lips to caution him to be quiet.

His gaze softened as
it
fastened on Amy. She was a lovely bairn with coppery hair and a smattering of freckles dusting her porcelain nose.
Sleepy blue eyes opened for a moment to recognize him before drifting closed again. A smile touched her
wee lips as she murmured, “Da.”

Connall’s heart clenched at the title she had given him. It meant more to him than any that his birthright…or the king had bestowed on him. His eyes misted for a moment. This is what he yearned for these past two years. Hearth and home, a wife and bairns
, twas all that he needed. He was tired of the fighting…the hating. He needed some peace to soothe his soul.

He retrieved the child from her arms and placed her in bed, tucking the blankets snuggly about her. He kissed her brow then straightened. He silently thanked God for having their paths cross. Nodding to the nursemaid in the corner, he turned to go.

“If she needs anything
do nae hesitate to see to it…even if it is my presence.”

“Aye my lord. I will see to it.”

Satisfied, he left the chamber, noting that Brighde had left shortly after his arrival. He assumed that she had gone to change from her dirt stained gown. Connall met Robbie just outside of the great hall and pulled him aside.

“We will stay one full day here so Amy can gather some strength for our long journey.
Send a man to Inve
r
ness and book passage to Wick. We will travel overland from there to Halkirk. It will be less strenuous on my ward.”

“It will be done at first light, my lord.
” A look of co
n
cern crossed his face a moment later. “Connall, I have been hearing some bad reports about our host. He means to be rid of the lady before the snow flies
…whether she wishes it or nae. Tis rumored that he has spent her dowry and plans to ask for a bride-price.”

Blacksword shook his head. “True or nae, he can nae. Her father has given her the choice of spouse.”

Robbie peered at him. “I do nae believe that will ma
t
ter to Stephen Ross.”

His senses went on alert. “What does Ross have to do with it?” Connall knew of his penchant for wedding, be
d
ding, and then losing his wives to an early grave.
It was well known in the
H
ighlands but no one could prove foul play. He growled.

“Did ye nae ken that he was here? Has been for a for
t
night now. I met some of his guard in the stable. They d
e
clare that he will nae depart without the lass.” He studied his laird’s face intently until he was satisfied that his mea
n
ing had taken hold. Robbie had seen his laird’s keen inte
r
est in the lass when they first arrived. If he truly wan
ted her, then he would need to move quickly. Connall was a score and ten. It was time to take a bride and get some heirs on her.

“I was nae aware. Thank ye, Robbie. It seems that I have some decisions to make.” He walked to the hall ru
b
bing his close-cropped black beard while he contemplated the choices.
She was a fine lass. He had no doubts about her character after observing her interact with Amy. And he could not deny that he desired her…
what man would nae feel the same? But she would nae agree
to it.
He shook his head. He would need a bride soon…why not her? Sighing, he walked to the dais.