This Heart of Mine (80 page)

Read This Heart of Mine Online

Authors: Bertrice Small

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Historical, #Sagas

BOOK: This Heart of Mine
4.93Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“ ’Tis Bella and her weakling,” muttered Alex.

Velvet giggled. “Alex!” she admonished.

“Nay,” he replied. “Look at her standing so proudly as if ’twas she who was the lady of the manor. The minx should be on the lowest step awaiting us, nae on the top!”

They rode up to the foot of the steps, and Velvet got her first good look at her sister-in-law. She was wearing a deep crimson silk dress, one of her best, Velvet suspected, which flattered her dark hair and gray-blue eyes. She had a pretty, fair-skinned face, but she did not look particularly like her brother, and Velvet suspected she favored their late mother.

Alex slid easily off his horse and, turning, lifted Velvet down from hers, kissing her on the nose as he did so. She laughed up at him, and he couldn’t resist a chuckle himself. She looked so damned adorable in that outrageous riding outfit. Then, slipping an arm about her, he walked up the steps to where his sister and her husband awaited.

“Welcome home, brother,” said Annabella Grant, but her very disapproving gaze was upon Velvet.

Alex kissed his sister in a perfunctory manner. “How nice of ye to be here awaiting us, Bella.” He loosed his grip on Velvet and drew her forward. “My wife, Velvet Gordon, the new Countess of BrocCairn.”

Annabella Grant was forced to curtsy, but as she inclined her head, Velvet, in return, said graciously, “You need not curtsy to me, sister.” Then, taking the surprised woman by the shoulders, she kissed her upon both of her cheeks. “I do hope we will be friends,” she finished.

“Of course,” said Annabella, quite flustered by this young and beautiful woman in her outlandish garb. This was not how she had imagined this meeting would go. She was, after all, her new sister-in-law’s senior by eight years, yet Velvet made her feel positively awkward.

Velvet tucked her arm through Annabella’s. “I want to know everything about
Dun Broc
, and since it was your childhood home, I am sure you can tell me. When I ask Alex, all he can talk about is history and architecture.”

Bella felt a burst of warmth suffuse her slender frame. Why Velvet was very much like herself. How wonderful! “Men,” she said importantly, “simply dinna understand the running of a household, sister.” She looked archly at her brother and her husband, and then, as if remembering something, she said with a wave of her hand, “This is Ian, my husband.” But before Ian could open his mouth, she was chattering on again about the numerous details necessary to running a castle like
Dun Broc
, quoting her dear, departed mother frequently as they walked into the castle.

Alex couldn’t help but grin. Bella was incorrigible. He turned to his brother-in-law. “How are ye, Ian? Is all well at
Grantholm?
And wi’ my nephews?”

“Aye, Alex. The cattle ye gave us last spring hae prospered, and we’ve just slaughtered them. They’ll bring a pretty penny, and I’ll finally be able to make repairs to the roof.”

“Ye dinna slaughter all the cattle, did ye, Ian?”

“Aye,” came his brother-in-law’s reply.

“God’s nightshirt!” exploded Alex. “How in hell do ye expect to build yer herd if ye hae no cows to breed to my bull?”

“Bella said we couldna afford to keep the cows this winter if we were to make all the repairs needed. She said ye’d gie us new stock in the spring. That it was her right.”

“Her right?
Christ almighty, man, the only rights yer wife has are those ye gie her! I warned ye that I would not help ye again, Ian. Bella has no claims to
Dun Broc
, and ye both well know it. Ye should hae seen that ye couldna make all the repairs necessary to yer house this year. The roof would hae been a good start. If ye’ll take my advice, ye’ll repair it and save the rest of yer money to buy fresh stock in the spring.”

Ian nodded. “I’m nae wise like ye, Alex, but I’ll take yer good advice. Bella is nae easy to live with, ye know,” he finished apologetically.

“She needs a stick taken to her,” snapped Alex, “and until ye do it ye’ll nae be able to control her. She’s a willful wench, Ian. For God’s sake, man, show some backbone!” He stamped up the steps into his home and, turning back to Ian, said, “Now take yer wife home, Ian. Ye know that the road is difficult in the dark, and ’tis getting close to sunset.”

“Are we not to stay the night, then? Bella said we were to stay.”

“The hell ye’re going to stay! It’s taken me three years to bring my wife home to
Dun Broc
, and I dinna intend to spend our first night at
Dun Broc
entertaining ye and my sister.”

Annabella was outraged at her brother’s behavior, and though Velvet pleaded sweetly, Alex held firm. Within a few short minutes the Grants of
Grantholm
were trotting down the narrow, walled road toward the glen and their own home. The portcullis was lowered, the drawbridge raised, the men-at-arms paced upon the castle heights, and
Dun Broc
was secured for the night. With a self-satisfied grin, Alex returned to his wife.

Velvet loved
Dun Broc
from the first moment she saw it. It was not a large castle. Indeed, there was an almost cosy air about it. The building was set firmly against the north wall of
Dun Broc
and ran along a portion of the northwest and northeast walls as well. The windows on these particular walls were high enough to prevent entry through them by an enemy, for it was this area of the castle that was the most vulnerable. Most of the views from
Dun Broc
faced south, west, and east.

The gardens on the west and southwest walls of the castle were badly overgrown, except for the small kitchen garden. It was still warm enough, Velvet thought, that something could be done there before winter set in. At the very end of the gardens, and directly off the castle itself, was a small chapel.

Dun Broc
had been begun two centuries before when a laird of BrocCairn had fortified the mountaintop and started to build upon it. The first Earl of BrocCairn had been created by James IV as reward for his support in his war of insurrection against his father, James III. The last laird had fought against his son, the first earl, and died with his king, James III, at Sauchieburn along with his two younger sons. It was said that James Gordon, the first Earl of BrocCairn, was punished by God for his rebellion against not only James III but his own father as well in that he had but one child, his son, Alexander. The second earl was also childless but for a single daughter.

Lady Alexandra Gordon, the heiress to BrocCairn, was a wild and willful girl with flaming red hair and black eyes. At fourteen she had attracted the attention of James V, the handsome and unmarried king. For close to a year Alexandra had held the king at bay, only yielding to her liege after a handfast marriage that James Stewart afterwards denied. Alexandra had died in childbirth at sixteen, bearing the king a son, Angus Gordon, the third Earl of BrocCairn. Young Angus, though recognized by his father, was raised by his grandfather and bore his name, not the king’s. Angus was matched with Isabel Leslie who bore him two living sons and a daughter, of which Alex and Annabella were the survivors.

Since the time of the creation of the earldom,
Dun Broc
had grown: its walls going higher; sprouting round towers from which the land below might be viewed; its manor house giving away to the small jewel of a castle that now held sway over the bailey.

Within the castle Velvet found a fine, good-sized hall containing two large stone fireplaces to heat it. There were several large, beautiful tapestries hanging upon the walls, the stone
floors were swept clean, and the tables were well polished. Bella’s handiwork, Velvet thought, and reminded herself to thank her sister-in-law. The air was fragrant from the applewood fires and bowls of sweet herbs that had been discreetly placed about. The main level of the castle also contained the steward’s office, Alex’s private library, the kitchens, storage rooms with their casks, barrels, and boxes, as well as the granaries and the servants’ hall. There were more storage rooms, as well as the castle’s dungeon in the cellars below. On the upper level of
Dun Broc
were the family quarters, consisting of the earl’s apartments, which adjoined the countess’s, guest chambers, and the nursery. The servants slept in the attics above.

Alex led his wife to the kitchens so that she could meet
Dun Broc’s
cook. A big-boned woman came forward at their entry, a smile upon her handsome face. Her dark hair was liberally streaked with gray, and she carried herself proudly.

“So here she is,” the woman declared in a deep voice. “Welcome home, m’lady!” Then she curtsied.

Alex smiled at the woman. “Velvet, this is Morag Geddes.”

Velvet looked closely at the cook and, suddenly seeing the resemblance, asked, “Are you Dugald’s mother?”

“I am,” came the reply, “and my son tells me that we both owe ye a great debt of gratitude, for ye saved the life of my only grandson.”

“But how could you know that already?” demanded Velvet, astounded.

Morag Geddes laughed. “There’s nae witchcraft about it, m’lady. Dugald rode on ahead of the main party to prepare me for the wonderful surprise. He says the lad is the spit of him. Is it true, then?”

“Aye,” said Velvet, smiling, “and he’s a fine little boy, too.”

“Well, then,” replied the big woman, “perhaps I’ll take to the English girl my son’s wed wi’.”

“I’ve known Pansy all my life,” Velvet said, hiding her smile, “and I am certain that you’ll like her, but, more important, she loves Dugald.”

“ ’Tis something to be said for that,” replied Morag.

The kitchens smelled wonderful, reminding Velvet that she was very hungry, but nothing would do until Alex had showed her the upper level with their quarters. “I had the countess’s apartments redone before I first came to England to fetch ye,” he said, his voice holding an almost boyish note, anxious and seeking her approval.

“I’m sure they will be lovely,” she said in reply, but secretly she wished he had not presumed to do such a thing without even knowing her first. When, however, she went through the door into her chambers, she was stunned and delighted.

It was not a large apartment, but both rooms overlooked the gardens below and a view west-southwest over the mountains. Each room had a large fireplace: the one in the dayroom flanked by carved stone dogs, the one in her bedchamber guarded by two winged angels. In both rooms wooden floors had been laid over the stone, and upon the floors were beautiful, thick, wool India rugs of acceptable quality. With a pang of remembrance, Velvet felt her feet sink into the carpet, and she wondered where he had obtained them and when but she did not ask. She never would.

The dayroom’s main window was bowed, and there was a window seat within it. The drapes and the upholstery were coral-colored velvet sewn with threads of gold. There was a lovely rectangular table of polished oak in the center of the room, and upon it sat a blue and white porcelain bowl filled with heather. Two carved chairs with their plump cushions were before the fireplace, one on each side. At one wall there was an oak sideboard with carved legs, its polished top reflecting the candlelight from the twin candelabra on either end of it. At another wall stood a tall, two-door oaken chest. The walls were paneled, and the ceiling was of coffered oak. Above the fireplace was a magnificent tapestry depicting a handsome hunter closing in with his dogs on a big stag. There was something familiar about the man.

“The tapestry was worked by my grandmother, Alexandra Gordon. She did it in the two years that she knew King James V. It is his face ye see on the hunter.”

“Were these her rooms, Alex?”

“Aye. ’Tis said the king used to visit her here.”

“That’s very romantic,” Velvet mused, “and I love the room, Alex!”

“Come and see the rest of yer apartments, lass,” he invited.

To Velvet’s further delight her bedchamber was as lovely as the dayroom. Here, however, the draperies were of peacock blue velvet. There was a fine, big bed with hangings on silver rings that could be pulled around to enclose it. Upon the bed was a coverlet of red fox. There was a candlestand on one side of the bed and a large carved oak chest against one wall. The bowed window, the mate to the one in the dayroom, also had a window seat, and beside it was a round table containing a pewter bowl of late roses. Above the fireplace
was a second tapestry, this one showing a seated pair of lovers embracing upon a hillside.

Velvet looked up at it. “Surely the lady Alexandra didn’t do that tapestry as well as the one in my dayroom?”

“My mother did this tapestry,” he replied. “These were her rooms also from the time she married my father. She worked the piece early in their marriage. She found the story of my grandmother a very romantic, if sad one. The lovers are supposed to be James and Alexandra. Two years after I was born my mother lost a set of twins and was ill for some months afterwards. She had a great deal of time upon her hands, and she spent a good bit of it designing and weaving the tapestry.” He slipped his arms about his wife and drew her back against him. “I dinna want to think of past lovers, lass,” he murmured in her ear. His hands slid up to cup both her breasts. “Ye’re so damned tempting, Velvet Gordon.”

She tingled deliciously beneath his seductive fondlings, but then she sighed and said, “I’m hungry, Alex!” and tried to squirm away.

“So am 1,” he answered, holding her fast. Then he turned her so that she faced him and, looking down at her, said softly, “I want to make love to ye, my bonny wife.” His fingers undid her clothing as he spoke. “We are home at last, my beautiful Velvet.
Home!
I have dreamed of this moment for more than two years, lass! Dreamed of our being here, together, in this room.” His lips brushed her temple, and her silk shirt slipped to the rug. He had already managed to remove her jerkin and belt.

Velvet’s eyes closed unbidden as a lovely languorous feeling filled her veins. She could feel his hands undoing her chemisette, and then her breasts were bared. His head dipped to take a soft nipple in his warm mouth. She murmured softly, a pleased little sound that encouraged his boldness, and her hands stroked his head. Food was forgotten as hunger for another pleasure swept over her. She helped him to remove her lower garments, and then nude, she began to undress him.

Other books

Just Let Go… by O'Reilly, Kathleen
Blueeyedboy by Joanne Harris
Deadly Dreams by Kylie Brant
A Butterfly in Flame by Nicholas Kilmer
Real Leaders Don't Boss by Ritch K. Eich
The Beaded Moccasins by Lynda Durrant
At the Spanish Duke's Command by Fiona Hood-Stewart
Gull by Glenn Patterson
Renegade Alpha (ALPHA 5) by Carole Mortimer