Border Bride (40 page)

Four abreast, the mounted Highlanders streamed through the gates of Kildalton. The bright sunshine of early afternoon reflected on swords and battle shields. At the head of the sea of soldiers, clad in sedate black and green tartans, rode the chieftain. He alone wore three eagle feathers in his bonnet, but the ornamentation was unnecessary; in the set of his shoulders, the tilt of his head, Comyn MacKay exuded leadership.

Alpin trembled inside, for here was another man who thought it his right to dabble in her destiny. First her uncle had snatched her from the jaws of poverty, only to banish her for a troublesome child. Then Charles, weak-willed and broken in spirit, had left her adrift and at the mercy of a more dangerous adversary.

Melancholy weighted her soul, for her lover's crime had been the greatest; he had altered the course of her life and, in the process, stolen her heart.

She felt fragmented, terrified, and alone.

Malcolm put an arm around her shoulders and drew her close. "Which chamber shall we put him in?"

His question jolted her. She stood at another of life's crossroads, and Malcolm wanted to discuss accommodations. Furious with him, she tipped her head back until their eyes met. "You can house him in the stables for all I care."

Concern softened his features. He gave her a gentle squeeze. "He's just a man looking for his granddaughter. But I'm the man who found her."

He had taken her mind off the uncertainty and made her think of the everyday. She found solace in his answer and loved him a little more for it. "I shall give him the suite next to Saladin's."

He winked. "The perfect choice. I believe, as they say, we have our ducks in a row."

His sword rattled, inspiring a question of her own. "You do not fear him?"

He stared at the gates. "Nay, for I expect you'll deal with him, Alpin. 'Tis his army that troubles me."

She faced the visitors and estimated that at least fifty soldiers had passed through the gates. Her gaze was drawn to the leader, and she found herself looking into a pair of very familiar eyes.

Comyn MacKay dismounted and marched toward them, spurs jingling, his arms swinging, his step as quick and light as that of a man half his age. Alpin's heart tumbled in her chest, for he was studying her with an intensity that matched her own.

He wasn't a tall man, compared to Malcolm, but he was spry and trim and carried himself with dignity. He wore his tartan as Malcolm did, the sash thrown over his shoulder and secured with a silver brooch bearing a hand holding a dagger erect. His sporran was made of a prize badger hide with intricate stitchery and fine golden tassels.

When he doffed his bonnet, he revealed a shock of curly white hair, yet his brows and full beard still held sprinklings of dark red. In Highland fashion, he sported narrow braids at his temples.

Her grandfather.

He stopped a yard away. His eyes, the same shade as hers, narrowed, then went glassy with tears. "Do you know who I am, lass?"

Misgivings fled like cowards from a battle struck. She couldn't stop her bottom lip from quivering. "Yes."

Arms spread wide, he chuckled. "Then step away from that foosty Lowlander and give your grandsire a hug."

The pull of his affection was strong, and when Malcolm slid his hand to the small of her back and gave her a push, she went willingly.

Comyn MacKay drew her to his chest and hugged her tight. He smelled of a forest at dusk, and if welcome had an odor, she thought she'd discovered it, too.

"Lassie mine," he said, "you've been out of the fold for too long."

In that instant a thousand girlish dreams came true. The MacKays had wanted her. No awful flaw in her character had caused them to desert a little girl. Fate had sent her to Baron Sinclair, and he had separated her from her father's people by sending her to Barbados.

Malcolm cleared his throat. "Shall we take our reunion inside?"

Comyn held her at arm's length for a moment, then drew her to his side. She looked at Malcolm and found him shaking his head and glancing from her to the man who held her. "Lord, you two are a pair of MacKays. She's your kin, Comyn. There's none to deny that."

"Sure as the king's another Hanoverian," Comyn said with disdain. "I expect the bastard's German blood to boil when he learns you've taken one of my Highland lassies to wife."

Once again Scottish politics intruded in Alpin's life. By marrying her, Malcolm would anger the English king and make an ally of this Highland chieftain. Her grandfather.

He stepped away from her. "You've not finished your haying, I see," he said to Malcolm.

"Nay. I've had a few interruptions from your granddaughter." He shot Alpin a meaningful look.

"She is that right enough—the very image of my mother." Comyn slapped Malcolm on the back. "Call your next man. My soldiers can swing a sickle as good as any."

"Thank you, sir," said Malcolm. "We could use the extra hands." He yelled for Alexander.

When the soldier approached, Malcolm and Comyn left her and joined the newcomers in the yard. The MacKay singled out one of his soldiers, presumably his own next man. Introductions were made; then Alexander and Malcolm conferred, the others gathering in a circle around them.

Forgotten for the moment, Alpin watched their male camaraderie and thought Barbados had never seemed so far away. She was homesick for her friends and her stable, orderly life. She was drawn to the grandfather who'd held her in his arms and spoken of his own mother. She'd fallen in love with a man who used her as a stepping stone to power.

Now she faced the daunting task of housing and feeding not only the soldiers of Kildalton but Comyn MacKay's men too.

With that diversion in mind, she marched up the steps and into the kitchen. Dora was pitting cherries, but from the stains on her mouth, Alpin saw that she had eaten her share.

"Go to the butcher. Tell him we need enough beef to feed one hundred men for supper."

Dora squealed in dismay. "What'll we do for vegetables?"

"Get all the peas and tatties from the market. Ask your mother and Nell to help you clean and cook them. Tell the baker we'll need a mountain of bread. Take all the cherries to Mrs. Kimberley and have her turn them into pies. When Elanna gets back, she'll help you."

Alpin turned to leave, then remembered the accommodations. "Have Emily and her sister come and prepare every guest chamber."

"Aye, my lady. But what about food for the morning meal?"

Alpin felt torn. If she were smart, she'd use the arrival of the MacKays to cover her escape. Once Malcolm was asleep, she and Elanna could make way for Tynemouth. On the one hand she was curious about Comyn, but on the other she felt disloyal to Bumpa Sam and the other kind men who had for years fulfilled the role of grandfather in her life. She missed their kindness, their freely given affection. None of them would care who had sired her child or think of the benefits the babe would bring them; they would simply adore it. Once, that is, she returned.

If she shirked her duties to Kildalton now, however, Malcolm might grow suspicious and double his efforts to prevent her escape.

Plagued by indecision, she drew a pitcher of beer, gathered up some mugs, and went to the lesser hall. Salvador stood at the windows watching the activity in the yard.

No sooner had Alpin poured the drink, than Comyn MacKay strolled in with news that the watch had spotted Lady Miriam's carriage approaching from the Aberdeen road. Alpin wondered if her arrival would prove to be a curse or a blessing.

Bless Lady Miriam, thought Malcolm as he helped her from the carriage. "Let's take a walk." He guided her past the front of the castle and toward the walled garden.

She scanned the soldiers in the yard. "I saw some workers in the field near Otterburn. They were wearing MacKay colors. I take it Comyn has arrived."

"Aye, he's inside, but he can wait." He told her about the letter Salvador had delivered. "Father has persuaded James to forbid his son the trip to Scotland. Now Prince Charles wants to go to Aix-la-Chapelle."

Her only sign of agitation was the vigor she used in slapping dust from the skirt of her velvet gown. "That's very close to Hanover and King George."

Malcolm hadn't considered the geography. "If the king gets wind that a Stewart prince is encroaching on his German playground—"

"He'll dispatch his Hessian mercenaries before you can say 'king across the water.' Bonnie Prince Charles will find himself languishing in the Tower."

His stomach sinking with dread, Malcolm nodded to the guard at the wooden door as he ushered Lady Miriam inside the walled garden. The gurgling of the fountain and the chatter of wagtail larks made a peaceful contrast to the tumultuous events of the day. "Perhaps martyrdom's what Charles wants."

"Nay." She walked to the fountain and sat down on a bench. "Aix-la-Chapelle is a favorite retreat for Scots and English. I'm certain he thinks to mingle with them and gain their support. He has sworn to take the crown for his father. This trip is only a first step toward returning to Scotland."

Malcolm still went cold inside at the thought of a Stewart prince on Scottish soil. "Let's just hope no one in London knows of the prince's travels."

"We cannot count on secrecy," she said. "Walpole seems to know the Stewarts' every move even as they make it, and news travels fast between London and Hanover."

"That's why Father wants you to return with Salvador."

"I will," she said, "in a day or two. What else has happened?"

Problems of the realm vanished. "Alpin's pregnant."

"Oh, Malcolm!" She grasped his hands, her blue eyes twinkling with joy. "I'm so very happy for both of you."

He thought about the flimsy hold he had on Alpin. Fear of losing her burned like a hot coal in his gut. He told his stepmother about her attempts to escape.

Lady Miriam studied her hands. "You're certain she's upset because she thinks you want her only for a dynastic marriage?"

Malcolm almost laughed. "She's more than upset, Mother. She's obsessed with the notion of returning to Barbados."

"I'm not surprised. What decent person could stand by and watch the slaves being treated badly?"

"She told you that?"

"Yes. In vivid detail. Hasn't she told you?"

She had tried to convey her thoughts on the cruelty of human bondage, but Malcolm had made light of the subject. "I haven't been listening."

"You? I don't believe that. You're a generous man, Malcolm."

Her confidence pricked his guilty conscience. "You're prejudiced."

"Surely you can patch up things between you. Where's that Kerr charm?"

"I'm afraid I threw it out the window when I accused her of being unfaithful. But I just didn't believe the child was mine. I should have listened to you." Then he told her about the contraceptive device Rosina had left behind.

She squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed her temples. He stared at her supple fingers and thought of the times she'd felt his forehead for a fever or patted his cheek in affection. She was more than a mother to him and the love of his father's life; Lady Miriam was a trusted, cherished friend.

"Well." She rose and turned toward the garden exit. "What will you do?"

No experience in his past had prepared him for the task that lay ahead. Yet instinct told him honesty was the place to start. "I often think about what her life has been like and wonder about the friends she's made. I just wish she would talk more about the years she spent in Barbados. She's a passionate, exciting woman."

"I'm sure she is, considering I've a grandchild on the way." Shyly, she added, "I am delighted. You're father will be thrilled."

On reflection, Malcolm knew he hadn't tried hard enough to make a friend of Alpin MacKay. He'd been more concerned with the physical aspects of their relationship. Perhaps it was time to seduce her mind.

"That look in your eye bodes ill," Lady Miriam said.

Then he remembered he had a castle full of guests and fields to harvest. "Romance will have to wait."

"Nonsense. Your happiness affects all of the people, and I'll wager they've warmed to Alpin—even Miss Lindsay and her market cronies. What's more important than happiness?"

"Nothing," he said, and knew it was true.

His stepmother gazed at the castle, a faraway look in her eye. "I used to think I had no place here. Your father was so settled in his role as earl and so much a part of this land. Because I'd spent my life in Queen Anne's household, then traveling on her behalf, I couldn't picture myself settling down at Kildalton."

Her presence in the Borders had bettered the life of everyone. "Father changed your mind."

She laughed. "With help from the Border Lord."

Only a handful of people knew that Malcolm's father had donned the disguise of the legendary hero. "I'm glad he did, Mother, and I wish I had a romantic persona at my disposal."

"Oh, but you do, Malcolm. You're kind and generous and not afraid to show your feelings. Just remember, no one will begrudge you the time to win your wife's love. The people of Kildalton will expect you to make a happy marriage, and in a way you owe them that."

She was right. "Harmony begins at home." He echoed one of her tenets.

"Exactly, and tonight while you're wooing your bride, I'll get to know Comyn MacKay. Then tomorrow I'll negotiate a dowry worthy of her."

His bride had been so proud of owning Paradise. Now she would be an heiress of the MacKay clan with all the wealth and influence that came with the territory. His stepmother would see to it.

"When will you return to Italy?" he asked.

"In a couple of days. But right now I'd like a long bath and a nap in my own bed. I'm tired, Malcolm, of matters of state interfering in my life."

He understood completely.

Conviviality was the order of behavior in the lesser hall that evening. Seated at one of the banquet tables, her husband and her grandfather on either side of her, Alpin vacillated between guilt and euphoria. Across the table, Lady Miriam conversed with Saladin and Elanna.

Throughout the evening, Alpin had been the victim of a dual assault. Malcolm and his stepmother had asked a continuous stream of questions about Alpin's life in Barbados. Their ploy was as transparent as the glass in the windows. With Lady Miriam's help, Malcolm was trying to make amends for accusing her of cuckolding him. And why shouldn't he? He thought he was about to wed a wealthy heiress with ties to a Highland clan.