The letter in her hands confirmed Cameron’s words but it went on snagging her attention.
Do you really believe that your child will be welcomed any more than you are at Warwickshire? Return and let your babe be accepted as Mary’s. The world will see the child as legitimate. It’s a gift that will see him enjoying all of the comforts that you have sampled as the mistress of Sterling. Think about that before hiding behind the Scottish border.
Philipa was horrible, but she wrote the truth. Even if Brodick did not cast her out, her child would bear the stain of being born bastard.
It didn’t have to be.
She trembled, rubbing her belly with a soothing hand. Her throat had tightened, making it difficult to breathe. Anne forced the lump down. She had to do the best for her baby. The innocent growing inside her could be as respected as his father or as scorned as she.
She could not place her own life above her child’s. There could be no joy in her heart if she knew her happiness was purchased through the sufferings of her siblings.
“There is a valley below the castle, out of sight of the walls. Wait for me there.”
Cameron grunted, but Anne stepped away from him, not wanting to hear anything else he had to say. Climbing the steps, she lifted her chin.
“I am sorry to hear that you cannot stay for supper. Thank you for your service in bringing Bonnie to me.”
Cameron scowled but covered his displeasure when Helen moved up beside her.
“The young miss is staying?”
“Indeed she is. Captain Murry, will you help her dismount?”
The captain turned and walked swiftly across the yard. He reached up toward Bonnie. Her sister swallowed another whimper as she placed her hand in the man’s. Relief showed on her face. The captain led her away from the mare, while Cameron’s men looked at their leader. He stared at her while tucking the marriage license back into his doublet. He patted it in warning.
“I understand that Warwickshire is as busy as Sterling. I bid you good journey.”
Anne glared at Cameron. His gaze moved to Bonnie. Lust danced in his eyes but he tossed his head when Anne stepped slightly in front of her sister.
“True.” He swung up into the saddle. Aiming a hard look at her, he turned around, grabbing the reins to Bonnie’s mare. He and his men quit the yard quickly.
“He’ll come back for me.” Bonnie’s voice was hollow. “He promised…promised to do terrible things to me.”
“Do not think of it,” Anne whispered in her sister’s ears as Helen watched them. The senior maid frowned.
“Ye look as though ye didnae sleep a wink last night, child.”
Anne welcomed the distraction. “Aye, it does seem that traveling does not agree with young Bonnie. Will you please take her to the bath house, Helen? I believe she needs a bit of comforting from your skilled hands.”
“But…” Bonnie began.
“Hush now, Bonnie. There is no one better than Helen. She has taken such good care of me. I feel almost guilty.”
Helen beamed under her praise. She proudly took Bonnie’s hand.
“Follow me and we’ll see you feeling fresh and new.”
Anne followed them up the steps but continued on up to the second floor chamber that had been hers for so short a time.
She would never forget it.
Tears stung her eyes and she let them fall. She knew what she had to do. In her heart she knew that it would be better to face Philipa than watch Bonnie ride away with Cameron. The Church held more authority than either Queen Elizabeth or King James. The proxy marriage license would be respected in either country. Even if the captain of the guard disliked the union , he could not prevent Cameron from taking Bonnie. At least not without a mark on her to prove that the man was a beast.
Aye, Cameron was as evil as Philipa. Both knew how to choose their threats well.
She looked at the bed and more tears fell. But this time she was happy. Running her fingers across the coverlet, she smiled for the joy that she’d known there. No one could ever wipe it away from her mind. Grasping one of the pillows, she shoved it beneath the coverlet. Pulling on the bedding, she rumpled it to look as though she were sleeping. Jerking the bed curtains closed, she left only a small opening at the foot of the bed.
She needed time to make it far enough away from Sterling. The McJames’ retainers would not cross into England without their lord.
Sitting down, she wrote a last letter to Brodick. Telling him at last about their child and how happy her heart was to carry his babe. She sealed the letter, confident that her babe would return to Sterling and his rightful place.
That was the greatest gift a mother might give. It was the thing that prompted many a noble daughter to marry without love. The knowledge that her child would have a better life.