Winning the Highlander's Heart (5 page)

“Aye.”  Malcolm took a ragged breath.  Ever since he’d seen the woman, he’d done everything wrong.  First, they’d never been properly introduced.  No, before that.  He’d run his hands up her naked leg.  He smiled. 
That
he hadn’t minded.

Then he had to tell her horrors that caused her to faint dead away.  Worse, because of his having done so, he had deemed it necessary to carry her to the bedchamber, which caused a stir.  He’d hurt her and had to make it up to her.  At least that’s what he told himself.

When he had returned to the meal, he’d overheard the snickering from the English nobles speaking about him as if he were a buffoon.  Some of the ladies seemed shocked.

Dougald cleared his throat.  “I thought Queen Matilda was also going to faint when you carried Lady Anice out of the hall.”

“I had not been thinking quite clearly.”

“Oh, I dinna know, Malcolm,” Dougald said with his typical teasing tone.  “The lady sitting next to me told another how heroic the Highlander was.  The Englishmen did not like it because you showed them up.  They would have had their servants take care of an indisposed lady.  For a laird to make the effort?  Your actions sparked some attention amongst some of the more eligible English ladies.  Quite a brilliant plan, really, Malcolm.  Wish I had thought of it.”

The notion he’d aided Anice to make an impression on Englishwomen of the king’s court didn’t sit well.  If he could, he would take every action and word he’d committed back and begin all over...steering clear of the Scottish lass entirely.

Dougald continued with his teasing banter.  “I heard tell her lady-in-waiting ordered you out of the bedchambers.”

Had they not been at Arundel with King Henry in temporary residence, Malcolm would have walloped Dougald good.  Though he hadn’t meant to explain himself to his brother, the words slipped out before he could stop them.  “I offered my further assistance.  I wished to express my apologies to the lady.”

“Aye.”  The sparkle in Dougald’s eye showed he didn’t believe Malcolm.

Malcolm bit his tongue, not wishing to further Dougald’s subtle ribbing by adding timber to the flame.

“The king’s physician saw to her?” Dougald asked, his tone changing to concern, but whether for the lady, or worried Malcolm might haul off and hit him despite his wanting to keep up appearances, he wasn’t certain.

“Aye,” Malcolm said.

“Then all we need do is learn if His Grace has changed his mind about us working for Lady Anice.”

What did the king think about them?  That they were boorish, bullheaded Scotsmen with no sensitivities?

His stomach clenched with worrying how Anice had taken the news.  He glanced up at the window to the shared chambers.  Was she conscious yet?

The king’s redheaded steward joined them, his blue eyes narrowed and his jaw set.  “Lord MacNeill, His Grace wishes you to depart as soon as you can for Brecken Castle.  But because of Lady Anice’s delicate condition, he suggests you leave on the morrow.”

“Mayhap the lady should stay here longer to rest.  We can return for her in a fortnight,” Malcolm offered, hoping they could leave the lady behind so he could get on with the business at hand.  Would not she be safer with her king and cousin Matilda?  Particularly when they had no idea what had happened to Anice’s staff members.

“She wishes to leave at once, but His Grace says no.  She will leave on the morrow with you as His Grace has said.”  The steward scuttled back inside the keep.

Malcolm glanced at his brothers, who both smiled at him.

Dougald shook his head, the knowing look on his face, annoying Malcolm.  “I have told you, the lady is a handful.”

“Aye, that she is.”  A soft, warm, curvaceous handful.  When he’d had his arms wrapped around her soft body, all he could think of was how fortunate the laird would be who gained her hand in marriage.  His neck muscles strained with tension.  So why did this thought stir him into wanting to do battle when he desired instead an English bride?

*  *  *

Anice stared out the window, watching Laird MacNeill pace across the inner bailey.  Was he bothered that he had upset her so?  Or did he worry he’d lost favor with the king?

Mai placed her hand on her shoulder, her touch warm and comforting like her mother’s had been when she was a child.  “Milady, the king’s physician bade you stay in bed.”

“I am fine, Mai.  I dinna need to lie down.”

Mai peeked out the window.  “I told ye to leave the Highlander well enough alone.  Look what he did to you!  Frightened you half to death.  Me, too, if anybody has a care.”

Swallowing hard, Anice rubbed her chilled skin.  “Did my staff run off because they have stolen my funds?  Or have they been disposed of for some sinister reason?  I must know what happened to them and why.  Their families must be overcome with grief.  Why cannot His Grace let me leave now?”

Queen Matilda cleared her throat as she walked into the chambers.  “Because the king’s physician says you shall stay.  Why are you up and about?  You are to be resting in bed.”

Anice quickly curtsied.  “I am no’ tired, beg your pardon, Your Grace.  Why did Your Grace not tell me what happened already?”

“I did not know until right before the meal.”

“Was everything he said true?  Laird MacNeill, I mean.  That he and his brothers will replace my staff?”

“Until you are wed, aye.”

Anice narrowed her eyes.  “And who is to be chosen for me?  An English laird?”

“A Norman lord.  Baron Harold de Fontenot will be visiting you once you return.  He is the king’s most fervent choice because he is loyal to His Grace.  He hopes that you will look on the gentleman favorably.”

Had Anice any choice?  She doubted it.

“I have to say, my cousin, I spoke to His Grace about permitting you to return to your castle because of how homesick you are.  You should not have tried to leave here on your own.  English nobles will think you are a wild Scotswoman, unruly and unmanageable.  Rumors are circulating you even climbed out the keep window.  Of course, you would not have done anything so foolish as that.  ‘Tis a wonder what stories idle tongues will forge next.”

Anice fought speaking in her defense, pursed her lips, and kept her mouth closed.

“There is this matter of the curse, but of course only the truly superstitious believe in it.”

Did her cousin have to bring
that
up?  Even though she fought believing it herself, she sometimes wondered—

“I must admit, Anice, I admire you for not succumbing to the charms of my husband.  Any woman in your place would not have done so.  For that reason, I spoke on your behalf.”

Anice smiled, grateful for her assistance, and glad to know that Henry’s actions had not gone unnoticed by Matilda.  “Thanks be to thee, Your Grace.”  She curtseyed deeply.

Matilda poked her nose out the window.  “His Grace is sending the MacNeill brothers to fill your staff in the interim and escort you home.”

“Why?  Should I no’ make this decision about my staff?”  Anice couldn’t help the dismay coating her words.  Though she was pleased the Highlanders would return her home, there were others on her staff she wished to promote because of their loyalty to her and giving the positions to outsiders wouldn’t be appreciated by most, she feared.

“His Grace wishes it so.  Though, I suspect it has something to do with him not wanting the Highlanders to court the English ladies here.”

Anice’s mouth dropped open, and she couldn’t help being angered that Henry would be so deceitful.  “Do the MacNeills realize this?”

“I would think not.  These positions are the highest in your staff.  They no doubt are proud of their assignment.”

“For how long?”

“Until the baron has your hand in marriage.  He will then hire his own staff.”

“And the MacNeills?”

Matilda shrugged.  “’Tis not for me to say.  As to another matter, His Grace intends to do battle with his brother again, and he wishes this marriage of yours decided soon.”

Anice stared at her cousin.  “Robert Curthose received the Duchy of Normandy upon his father’s death.  Cannot he be satisfied?  His Grace only received five-thousand pounds of silver when the king died, for heaven’s sakes.”

“Robert has always maintained that after their older brother died in the hunting accident, he should have been next in line.”

As by rights of succession he should have been.  But Henry acted as fair handed as kings go, and she’d only heard ill tidings about Robert, who was not liked by many of the Norman nobles.  His being away fighting in the Crusades at the time of William’s untimely death left the throne free to Henry, the youngest son of William I.  Though many hadn’t thought he’d have a chance at the throne and was educated instead, mayhap to become a bishop.  Being one of the first literate kings, who also spoke English, Henry’s training was sure to have pleased Matilda.

Matilda took a deep breath, her shoulders sagging.  “Uncle Edgar Atheling is siding with Robert.”

“Nay, he cannot do that!  What does His Grace think?”

“Edgar would have been king of England had William of Normandy not invaded.  Edgar had been too young to fight back at the time.”

“Aye.”  How different would things have been had the Normans not taken over?  But if Robert were able to wrest power away from Henry, then what would happen?  To Matilda?  To her?  To any of those who were loyal to Henry?

Matilda motioned to the bed.  “The physician says you must rest, and I insist you obey.”

Anice wrinkled her brow, curtsied, then climbed into bed.

“I will visit with you later.”

“Your Grace,” Anice said.

A servant closed the door after the queen’s exodus.  Mai fussed with Anice’s bedcovers, the top...a blue cotton quilt brought back from the Middle East by one of the knights during the Crusades and given as a gift to the royal family, had kept Anice warm on the cool nights.

Mai pulled the quilt beneath Anice’s chin.  “I told you that you should have stayed in bed.  Here Her Grace has to go and tell you, too.  But as to another matter, I could not believe Laird MacNeill had the bullheadedness to carry you up to the chamber.”

Anice clenched the quilt in her fists.  “You have told me this repeatedly, Mai.  Please dinna bring it up again.”

“He wouldna leave either.  I thought I would have to call the guard.  Black-hearted knave.”

Anice stared at Mai.  “You said it was because he wished to see if I needed anything more.”  She unclenched her hands and smoothed out the quilt.  “‘Twas a kind gesture, naught more.”

“Och.  The laird should not have carried you to your room, then stared at you like that.”

Anice frowned, not liking the implication.  Was he thinking what it would be like to bed the Scotswoman?  The very idea.  Yet, the notion forced a flood of warmth to invade her.  He’d already had his hands upon her naked skin where they should never have been.  What would it be like to lay with such a brawny figure naked under the linens, making love?

“He stared like what?” Anice asked, gruffly.

“I should not say.”

“You have already said quite enough about the matter when I have warned you to say nay more.  What are you no’ saying this time?”

“‘Tis that he would not let any servant carry you, so it gave the impression that...”  Mai plumped the pillows, but didn’t finish her sentence.

“That
what
?”  Anice’s blood began to stir.  He had felt terrible for upsetting her.  For causing her to faint, nothing else.  Why would anyone make anything more of his concern?