In Bed With A Stranger(35)

The nausea persisted, making the idea of food repulsive. More weeks  passed. Many days went by without her speaking to a single soul. It was  as if she were a ghost, moving through the castle, yet unseen by the  rest of the inhabitants.

Philipa's insistence that she work as a servant came to be a blessing as  the staff of Sterling ignored her. Anne knew her way about everyday  work. In sooth, remaining busy was a kindness. At least while she was  washing her bed linens and clothing, her mind had something to mull over  that was not the possible fate of her family.

Was her mother still alive?

That question haunted her. Philipa hated Ivy. After years of hate  poisoning Philipa's soul, she was now black with rot. Having found the  courage to force Anne to leave with Brodick, it was very possible the  mistress of Warwickshire had turned Ivy Copper out. It might have been  done the moment Anne disappeared from sight. She had no way of  discovering the truth. At Sterling she was even more cut off from her  father.

It was a muddle that even the clear spring weather could not melt away.  The sun warmed her face as she hauled water from the river to wash her  laundry and still she felt chilled and shaky. Her belly remained queasy,  a tight knot that despised all but a few bits of nibbled bread. Even  that bland fare often turned her green.

She fell into a routine. Rising with the sun and sleeping as soon as it  set. The candles in her chamber had long since burned low. She couldn't  think of a good reason to burn another one since she only had her own  needs to see to. It would be a waste of a good resource. A habit she  didn't need to foster in herself. Who knew where she might find herself  come next spring and under what circumstances.

Brodick would turn her out when he discovered the ruse. Tears stung her eyes and she wiped them away. Crying was foolish.

Still she could not stop the flood of regret that hit her. He was a fine  man who treated his wife kindly, far more tenderly than many. Even with  his staff being so cold to her, there was much about her life at  Sterling to covet. If it were her home, she would take the staff in  hand. But she remained an outcast because she knew that she was not the  true mistress of the house.

She was the lord's leman at best, and even that would end when Brodick became wise to Philipa's game.

With no fire, she often slept in the surcoat, its sturdy fabric a  welcome comfort in the chamber. Once huddled beneath the coverlet, she  was quite warm. If only her heart could be thawed by the fabric.

That would surely be too much to hope for.

Home

Brodick didn't care if Cullen teased him. He was happy to be headed  home. It wasn't the first month he'd spent on the trail. A harsh truth  that it wouldn't be his last either. But tonight, he was following the  moon back to Sterling. It set his heart to pounding and his mind to  thinking about his sweet wife.

He caught Cullen staring at him.

"No teasing remark, Brother? Are ye sure yer nae feeling fevered?"

His brother didn't grin. Instead he looked serious and older than his years.

"I'm contemplating the fact that I'm envious of ye."

Druce reined in beside them. "Did I hear ye right? Was that actually wee Cullen admitting he can see the worth in marrying?"

Cullen glared at their cousin. "I always knew the value of the dowry but  I didnae grasp the worth o' having someone waiting on my return. That's  what I envy. Laugh if ye want, but ye've no one praying for yer skin,  either."         

     



 

Druce frowned. "Maybe, I admit I'm beginning to see the benefits o' such a thing. Possibly."

Had she really prayed for him?

Only his mother had ever done that. His face heated just a wee bit as  another part of him was far more interested in knowing if she'd dreamed  about him. Late at night, when the fire was low and her bed empty. He'd  thought about her every night on the trail, his back feeling the rocks  more than he had in years.

"Well, I'd be most appreciative if one of ye would catch that daughter  of McQuade's and marry her. That way I'd nae have to chase his raiding  clansmen across my land."

"Bronwyn McQuade?"

Druce and Cullen both scowled as they spoke the name. Cullen shook his  head in denial. "Yer harsh, Brother. Bronwyn is a shrew, more sour than  Medusa."

Druce chuckled. "I hear her pretty face is the lure she wiggles in front o' men before unleashing her hellcat temper."

"None o' us have ever even been in the same room with the lass. Could be 'tis nothing more than a fable."

"And I've no plans to change that, man." Druce looked set in his  opinion. "I want a sweet lass waiting for me, nae a battle of epic  proportions every night."

Brodick shrugged. "There were many who warned me against my bride. Told  me the English bred weak women with tempers like the insane." The top of  the first tower of Sterling came into sight. "I'm humbly thankful that  I've been shown otherwise."

Brodick spurred his horse forward. Cullen and Druce watched him gallop towards his home.

"'Tis more enthusiasm than any man so newly wed should have." Cullen  didn't sound as confident as he'd like. Envy was still riding him hard.

"Well now, I suppose maybe we're the unlucky sods for nae having someone to make us that impatient."

Cullen slid his cousin a raised eyebrow. "Does that mean yer taking another bit of thinking over Bronwyn McQuade?"

"Nae." Druce said it too loudly.

Cullen smirked. "Nae? It sounds like ye might be thinking o' it."

Druce snickered, his voice low and mocking. "You first, laddie. I want  to make sure she's fed before I go too close to her claws."

"Och well, nae every man has the amount o' courage I'm blessed with."

A couple of retainers laughed at Druce's expense. He pointed a finger at  Cullen. "I cannae wait to see ye tame her. Ye won't be the first man  she's sent howling from her with his tail between his legs."

Cullen frowned as more heads turned to listen in on their conversation. Druce smiled, enjoying his discomfort.

"Unless ye've lost some o' that great courage, cousin."

Chuckles surrounded him, raising his temper. "We'll see."

"Will we? I cannae wait." Druce smirked. "Truly I cannae."

"Ye will." Cullen kneed his horse forward. The snickering behind him  sent his temper to boiling. He didn't care if he'd started it, the idea  that any lass might be so hard to handle didn't sit well with him. His  brother was right. Marrying up with Bronwyn would settle a great many  scores. His aching back found it a fine idea. Besides, beneath his  teasing exterior was a son who had been raised with the same sense of  duty that Brodick had. Marrying for the benefit of the McJames people  was his future. 'Twas not just any bride he needed. Bronwyn McQuade was,  in fact, a fine choice to be contemplating.

Now if he could only manage a way to getting close enough to the lass  without getting his neck stretched on a rope by her father and brothers.  That was the real trick. Not taming her.

There wasn't a lass alive that was too strong to resist his charm. It  might be a wee bit of fun to pursue the stubborn lass just to see how  fast she succumbed to his touch.



The bells didn't ring upon his return.

Brodick had ordered that custom stopped when his father died. He didn't  feel worthy of the bells announcing his return until he proved his worth  as the new Lord of Sterling. 'Twas not something that could be done in  the three short years he'd held his title. He rode through the open gate  with pride tonight. All the discomforts of the last five weeks  dissipated as he looked over the peace of the courtyard. Men walked the  walls, the fires were burning evenly and all of its inhabitants slept in  ease.         

     



 

That was the duty of the McJames.

The sword on his back was never too heavy. But he was glad to be home  again. Swinging his leg off the back of his horse, he gave the animal a  firm pat before letting a stable lad take the reins. The youth looked  stunned for a moment, hesitating because Brodick normally cared for his  own steed.

"Do a good job of rubbing him down, lad, and I'll see a reward to ye."

A smile parted the boy's face. "I'll be like his mother."

Men began spilling through the open gate, their voices cheerful. Lights  began to flicker in the tower as wives and families roused. He looked up  toward the chamber his wife slept in but saw no hint of light in the  window.

That didn't discourage him.

All it did was unleash a wicked desire to wake her up.

He stopped halfway up the steps. Inside he caught a whiff of sweet  lavender from the candles. A deeper breath gave him a hint of what his  body smelled like. Turning around he moved toward the bathing room. The  erection standing at attention behind his kilt would just have to wait  until he removed the stench of horse and sweat.

His wife had a pretty nose that he had no desire to see wrinkled.

The kitchen was already lit up, Bythe and her helpers smiling with  welcome. Several retainers had made their way to their families, joy  spilling into the darker corridors.