Patrick shouted orders as the birlinns grounded on a stony beach where the boats would remain guarded by a few MacLachlan warriors until the return trip to Strathlachan.
The retinue that set forth for Glasgow was large, fifty-five in all. Stephen, as captain of the Leine-chneas, led Patrick’s elite bodyguard—his tail of fifteen proven warriors personally selected from the most trusted and loyal of MacLachlan and MacEwen men. Jamie, Duncan, the clan historian and the chief’s mouthpiece belonged to this esteemed group. Several young ghillies traveled with them. One of whom held the coveted honor of sword bearer, responsible for Patrick’s great claymore with its sparkling sapphire gemstone.
For additional safety, he brought an extra contingent of well-armed warriors, lads who were chosen for their battle skills from the buannachan—the ranks of MacLachlan professional fighting men. He planned for some of the lads to escort his steward, Lachlan, and the provisions back to the castle overland after the fair, while others would sail back in the birlinns. He wanted Laurie and Elspeth to remain safe.
A gentle rain fell throughout the day. The muddy track slowed their progress. Concern plagued him. He wanted to reach Glasgow before dark. As the day waned, he hurried them along, yelled orders up and down the line, prodded everyone to continue walking.
For a short time, he walked alongside Laurie, doubting she was accustomed to walking such great distances. She must be tired and cold, yet she didn’t complain. She plodded on, making him proud. “How do you fare?”
“I’ll be fine once I find a bed to fall into.” She flicked a stray hair from her face. He would ensure her comfort when they reached their destination.
At gloaming, they neared the outskirts of the burgh. When Patrick feared Laurie would drop from exhaustion, she picked up the pace and followed the others through the darkening streets.
His people were weary and soaked to the skin when they finally reached the house Lachlan procured. Located on one of the nicer lanes, he’d hired this same lodging for the eight days of the fair for the past two years. Although the timber house was small, it met his needs. Each of the two floors consisted of three rooms, and with the additional space provided by the garret in the big barn, there was room enough for his entire party. Behind the residence, off the courtyard, several outbuildings and a cookhouse provided more space.
Lachlan greeted him when he banged on the heavy oak door. Patrick grasped Laurie’s cold hand and tugged her into the small hall where a crackling fire burned in the hearth against the far wall. His servants had prepared well. The cozy room was warm, clean and neat. Settling her on a bench before the fire he spoke briefly with Lachlan while his people settled. Stephen, Duncan and Jamie found a spot to huddle near the hearth, warming their hands and allowing their clothes to dry. Laurie stretched, moving her feet closer to the flames.
Laurie’s pale face concerned him. During a light meal, her eyes drifted shut on and off. He prayed she wouldn’t become ill from the wet or the chill of the day. When her eyelids finally closed, he gathered her in his arms and carried her up the stairs to the chamber she would share with Elspeth.
As much as he desired taking Laurie to his bed, he needed to keep up appearances. Some of the staff were not of his clan and might be prone to whispering rumors he didn’t wish spread. He didn’t want Lamont to catch wind of this betrothal.
Twining her arms around his neck, she gazed at him through sleepy eyes, filled with what he hoped was true love. Her soft, pink lips parted into the most glorious smile. His heartbeat sped and he gave her a quick peck on the cheek before depositing her on the bed and escaping the chamber. He needed to put some distance between them. She enticed him beyond his control.
Patrick returned to the hall and mused on the woman upstairs. His life had changed in many ways in the short time since he’d found her. He could almost say he was happy.
Yet doubts nagged.
There was much he didn’t know about her, or understand about her sudden appearance. Too many mysteries remained yet to solve.
She had wound her way around his heart, his passion for her overwhelming. He didn’t like his blindness to all else when his blood burned with fire, thinking only of his need for her. His burgeoning desire left him vulnerable.
He remained in the hall when the others went to find their beds. Staring into the flames, he thought of his father and stepmother, and his brother Archibald. He wished Archie had returned from the Continent. Patrick was in need of his brother’s quick mind.
Stephen joined him after a short while with two goblets. “Lachlan procured a delicious French wine to serve at your wedding celebration. Might you wish to sample it?”
“Aye.”
His cousin handed him one of the goblets full of the dark ruby liquid. “For a man who is about to wed the lass of his dreams, you look a wee bit glum.”
Patrick swirled the wine in his cup, taking only a tiny sip. He raised his head to glare at Stephen. His cousin but laughed.
“Care to unburden your soul?”
“I want the lass more than I should, yet I am unsure of where she came from, or the why of it. And I dinnae ken what happened to my parents.”
“Do you believe Lady Laurie is involved in your parent’s disappearance?”
“Nae. Yet I dinnae like the meddling of the faeries. And I am yet to learn more about my stepmother’s faerie Munn warned me of. He has been silent on the matter of late. That is, beyond warning me of dire consequences if I wed Laurie.”
“Mayhap you should bed the lass and forget the wedding.” Stephen’s lips curved into a wary smile.
“I made a promise. ’Tis only right I wed her. I am the only one who can protect her.” He massaged the back of his neck.
“Well, then, I will be at your back, protecting you.”
Patrick stared at his cousin for a long moment. “For that, I thank you.”
They sat quietly, comfortable with the silence, and with each other’s company.
Stephen finished his wine and left him to his thoughts. Several long hours passed before he went to find his own bed. Sleep wouldn’t come.
Hours passed before he drifted off, only to waken with his heart pounding against his ribs, fear twisting his gut, and a scream burning his throat.
* * *
Laurie stretched, enjoying the warmth of the sun shining on her face from the window. They’d arrived in Glasgow a day early. Although the bishop would proclaim the festival this evening, the fair wasn’t to begin until tomorrow.
Small as the town seemed, Elspeth assured her there were wondrous places to visit.
Stephen assembled the men, and Patrick’s tail encircled them. Laurie wasn’t used to bodyguards. Remembering an incident that happened to her in New York City, she laughed.
She’d been rushing home from the office one evening when she rounded a corner onto Fifth Avenue and collided with a famous celebrity’s personal guards, six big men surrounding the much shorter actor. One of the guys actually picked her up as if she weighed nothing and moved her to the side. She’d been insulted and furious for days.
She sized up the men who now surrounded her. They were definitely bigger and much fiercer than the actor’s bodyguards had appeared. It hadn’t been clear whether the twenty-first century guards carried concealed weapons. Her current escort did, along with large swords strapped to their backs.
They made their way up the High Street, above which towered a lofty stone spire.
“May we go to the cathedral?” she asked.
“Aye, we will go there now, if you wish, before we visit my wee brother.” Patrick placed her hand on his arm.
“Please.” Elspeth clapped her hands. “You will love the cathedral and the bishop’s house.”
Patrick chuckled. Thank goodness. Earlier he’d admitted to having a nightmare, which had left him unsettled.
Laurie loved the gothic architecture of the magnificent cathedral. It stood majestically over the burgh. They visited the nave and the choir. What she loved most was the lower church and the series of chapels. The beautiful vaulted space inspired awe. She dropped to her knees on a padded cushion and prayed, thanking God for the marvelous man standing beside her.
The grandeur of the bishop’s tower house with its high wall and fortified gatehouse was equally impressive. Finding oneself surrounded by history had a sobering effect.
Many historians and authors would sell their soul to have this experience.
* * *
After spending the morning in and around the cathedral, they strolled back down the street and stopped before a large stone building. Patrick banged upon the wooden door and waited. Laurie knew he was impatient to see how his young brother fared.
A hunched over, elderly man in black robes answered the door and directed them inside. Patrick along with Laurie and Elspeth entered the small, sparsely furnished chamber. He explained to the man the reason for their visit. The man inclined his head then left the chamber through a darkened doorway.
A few short minutes passed before a solemn man appeared. Tall and thin, with a homely face, and gnarled long fingers.
“Edward Erskine, principal regent,” Patrick said softly.
“Laird MacLachlan.” The man crossed the room with a lanky gait and shook Patrick’s outstretched hand.
“Good day, Erskine.” Patrick waved his arm to Laurie. “My betrothed, Lady Bernard, and my sister.”
“M’ladies.” The man bowed.
They curtsied in-sync. Laurie wanted to crack-up. She was finally getting the knack of the etiquette bullshit.
The two men moved away from the women and spoke in hushed tones.
Laurie scanned the room, a musty, dark and dreary chamber. The odor reminded her of some of the shops she once frequented in Paris, the establishments dealing in books of antiquity.
Elspeth leaned toward Laurie and whispered, “I cannae wait to see my brother.”
The regent left, and Patrick returned to Laurie’s side. “Master Erskine has gone to retrieve Suibhne.”
After a few minutes, Patrick’s younger brother appeared in the doorway, his head held high, proudly wearing his university scholar’s black gown. Clutched in his stiff arms was a leather bound book.
Suibhne hesitated. He seemed to brace himself before walking forward to join his family.
Laurie sympathized with the boy’s discomfort. Patrick had told her the boy was a bookworm. Suibhne preferred his studies to the manly pursuits his older brothers reveled in. She could relate. She’d always preferred reading to the uncomfortable social gatherings expected of a debutante.
Her foolish husband-to-be had assured her his brother wasn’t a lass. The lad had the ability to fight and hunt, Patrick had said. Being the son of a Highland chief, Suibhne had trained in fighting with the sword, shooting with bow and arrows, and seamanship. Yet the boy chose instead to study the arts. She suspected Patrick and his brother Archibald intimidated Suibhne. And the young man’s timid ways certainly rankled her fiancé.
Suibhne nodded to Elspeth before his eyes widened at the sight of Patrick’s arm draped around Laurie. The boy recovered quickly and awkwardly kissed his sister’s cheek. Then he turned to Patrick and greeted him with a formal bow. Patrick wasn’t so formal. He grabbed his brother, wrapped his arms around the lad, and pounded him hard on the back several times.
Red in the face, Suibhne stiffened in Patrick’s embrace, clearly embarrassed by his older brother’s display of familial affection. Patrick didn’t seem to notice the young man’s restraint. He released him and pulled her to his side. “Brother, this is the Lady Laurie Bernard, my betrothed.”
A tingling thrill rushed through Laurie when he introduced her as his betrothed. Curiosity burned in Suibhne’s blue eyes—eyes so similar to Patrick’s. Reminding her of someone else. But who? She couldn’t remember.
The boy bowed to her.
After exchanging more pleasantries, Suibhne excused himself to return to his lessons, having agreed to meet them later for the evening meal.
Patrick, Laurie and Elspeth left the university building, joined the guard waiting outside, and returned to their lodging for their mid-day meal. Afterward, Patrick requested the women spend the afternoon resting. He explained there would be much excitement over the next sennight and didn’t want them to overtire or become ill.
Laurie wasn’t so sure she liked the way he dictated her actions. What would Patrick think if she defied him and went out to explore?
* * *
During the evening meal, Patrick observed Laurie and Suibhne from his seat at the head of the table. His brother sat next to Laurie and seemed comfortable speaking with her.
“What do you study at University?” she asked.
“Robert Leslie is the regent. He instructs us in the works of Aristotle, among other subjects.”
“In Latin, I presume.”
“Aye.” Suibhne smiled. “Do you understand Latin?”
“I do.”
“I kenned you would.” His smile widened. “The university’s program covers many other fields of study—logic, rhetoric, mathematics, physics, ethics, politics, psychology and even metaphysics.” His voice rose with excitement.
“So many topics.” Laurie inclined her head to the book on the table next to Suibhne’s plate. “You must enjoy reading.”
Suibhne glanced at Patrick then lowered his eyes. “A bit too much, I fear.”
“Never too much.” She patted the book.
Hopefully, with Laurie’s encouragement, Suibhne would feel a sense of achievement. The lad was most often too reserved and lacked confidence. Especially on the field. Patrick inhaled a disappointed breath. At least, the lad excelled at his studies.
Laurie was good with his family. Patrick was well pleased yet the terror-filled dream he’d had during the night left him uneasy.
* * *
Come morning, the small group moved with the flow of people along the High Street. Laurie gawked at the other fairgoers. Some finely dressed attended by guards, while others wore no more than rags. Patrick’s lads kept the throng back, ensuring no one jostled them.
Laurie hadn’t seen crowds like this since she’d attended the San Gennaro Festival in Little Italy many years before. Years that had taken place in the twenty-first century. Now here she was, observing history, up close and personal. Goosebumps prickled her arms when she thought about her time traveling experience.
The entourage made its way along the street toward the Market Cross, the marketplace down hill from the cathedral.
If the crowds of people weren’t interesting enough, surely the colorful stalls full of all kinds of merchandise were. She tried to see everything, look in all directions at once.
Stalls and carts were set up along the course of the street. Displayed before her was every medieval item she could imagine. There were food stalls, some with baked goods, and others with produce and cheese, some with fruits, nuts and honey, and still others with spices. There were fishmongers and butchers. Even a merchant from France selling fine wines.
The calls of the merchants hawking their wares added to the chatter of the excited crowds. Patrick stopped before a cart of sweets and purchased treats for her and Elspeth.
As the candied fruit melted on Laurie’s tongue, she closed her eyes in pure ecstasy. When she opened her eyes, Patrick studied her, his eyes dark with desire. Her heartbeat quickened in response. Their marriage couldn’t come soon enough.
The MacLachlans moved on.
They passed booths containing cloth and other textiles. Stalls with leather. Others with animal skins and still others with goods made from leather. They passed booths with high quality metalwork—swords, knives and armor—while others displayed more domestic items. With so much to see, Laurie couldn’t decide where to visit first.
Elspeth stopped before a goldsmith’s booth and rummaged through the displayed goods.
“Show us your finest blue sapphires,” Patrick ordered of the smith.
The man laid a selection of gems on a black velvet cloth before him. The quality was suburb. Patrick picked up a large, clear stone and presented it to her. “Do you like this one?”
“Lovely.” The sapphire he chose was the most beautiful gem she’d ever seen.
Patrick held out his hand and she placed the stone on his palm. Then he returned it to the smith. “Make this into a betrothal ring.”
“No!” The gemstone would cost Patrick a small fortune. She’d studied enough history to know times in the Highlands had been difficult. She couldn’t allow him to squander his gold on her. “A plain gold band will be enough.”
“You refuse my gift?” A peeved expression clouded his features.
“I don’t want you to spend too much money on me.”
His features iced over, and Laurie’s stomach dropped. “We return to the house for the mid-day repast,” Patrick bellowed, ignoring her.
She couldn’t believe she pissed him off. He didn’t even bother looking at what else the smith had to offer. She bit her lip. Had he changed his mind about marrying her?
He glowered throughout the meal then stormed off after ordering her and Elspeth to stay at the house. His domineering manners were beginning to piss her off. She was tempted to go out, just to spite him. The rebellious impulse made her smile and she returned her attention to her embroidery. He’d get over his huff and so would she.
As she’d anticipated, Patrick recovered from his grouchy mood, and the remaining days of the fair were full of fun and merriment. They shopped and sampled the marvelous foods, often stopping along the way to view jugglers and tumblers or singers and dancers.
Late one afternoon, they watched a puppeteer and laughed aloud with the children. When the show ended, they walked along the thoroughfare. Laurie smiled, looking this way and that, her hand poised on Patrick’s arm.
He stiffened and stopped short, the entire entourage coming to a halt. In front of them, a group of armed warriors blocked their way.
Patrick wore a cold expression. Chills ran down her spine as she stared into the face of a fearless warrior.
“Patrick—”
“Whist!” He shoved her behind him. “’Tis Lamont.”
Stephen stepped close to Patrick’s side.
Laurie peeked from behind his broad back, peering between the two huge men. The warriors who stood before them looked more ruthless than the MacLachlans. She shuddered. Then she glimpsed the girl.
In the midst of the warriors stood a beautiful young girl, a woman-child, with hair the color of ebony, skin like fine ivory porcelain, and almond-shaped eyes, the deep blue color almost violet. She looked to be about sixteen, possibly younger, yet striking. An unwanted pang of jealousy surprised Laurie when the girl’s identity dawned on her. The infamous Isobell.
The girl was a teenager, for God’s sake.
Two men stepped forward from the group of Lamonts. The short, stout man with gray stringy hair, heavy eyebrows and a heavy beard, must be Iain Lamont. Laurie guessed the other, who stood to his right, was his henchman. The man was huge, tall and broad, cruel looking, ugly with horrible scars on his face. One scar—pink and puffy—stretched jagged from his lip to his right ear. Both men wore mean expressions.
“Ninian Stewart told the truth,” the older man shouted. “You have broken the agreement and plan to wed the outlander.” His voice dripped insult.
Laurie tensed. This was about her.
“There was never an agreement,” Patrick retorted. “And well you ken it.”
Both groups of warriors pressed forward. Patrick thrust Laurie at Duncan and Jamie grabbed hold of Elspeth. They rushed the women to the back of the guard.
“Thus you have said. Yet your father agreed to the match.” Though the MacLachlan warriors blocked Laurie’s view, she still heard Lamont’s angry voice.
“I have not seen an agreement. You cannae show me proof.” Patrick’s tone was strong and impassioned. Shoving and jostling broke out among the warriors.
“Is your father’s promise not enough?” Lamont snarled.
“Again. I say, I have nae proof. And ’tis not your business to whom I chose to wed.”
Swords were unsheathed. The clink of steel against steel rang out as Duncan and Jamie hurried Laurie and Elspeth down an alleyway toward their hired residence and safety.
“Stop.” Laurie stubbornly held onto Duncan’s arm, trying to halt him. “We can’t leave them. What if Patrick gets hurt?”
“Go!” Duncan pushed her along. “I will be the one hurt if we get caught in the fray and the chief does not find you and Lady Elspeth safe at the house when he returns.”
“I don’t want to leave him,” Laurie shouted.