Read Just Beyond Tomorrow Online
Authors: Bertrice Small
Just Beyond Tomorrow (29 page)
“Then, we must convince him otherwise, uncle,” Flanna told him. “Patrick hae promised me that I may restore Brae, and this is the perfect time for such an enterprise. I am nae a woman to sit by her fire, or her loom, as ye know. My activities must, by the very nature of my growing belly, be restricted, but if the duke wishes me to hae more than one bairn, then he must allow me to find less dangerous pursuits than those I usually follow. There is naught for me to do here at Glenkirk. Ye and Mary keep the household in order. I must be allowed to choose my own amusement, and I choose to go to Brae.”
“What mischief are ye up to?” Angus asked astutely.
“I would remove myself from Patrick Leslie's company for a time, uncle. If I dinna, I may kill him,” Flanna answered him candidly.
This was serious. Angus Gordon took his niece's hand and said, “What hae he done, lass, that ye are so angered wi' him?”
“He asked me if the king was my bairn's sire,” Flanna replied in low tones.
“Jesu!”
The word exploded from the older man's mouth.
The word exploded from the older man's mouth.
“He is a jealous fool,” Flanna said.
“Why would he ask ye such a thing?” her uncle demanded to know.
“When he arrived in Perth, I was alone wi' the king. He was verra angry, uncle, but there was naught to it. Then, I kept the secret of this bairn from him. I wanted to keep my word to the king to raise a levy for him, but Una hae shown me that my first loyalty lies wi' my husband. I understand that now. While I am saddened that I canna help the king, my child is more important. However, I dinna tell my husband of our child until I returned home from Killiecairn. And then he insulted me wi' his question. He knows better, of course, but I am nae ready quite yet to forget his slander.”
Angus nodded slowly. He understood completely. His niece was a proud young woman. “So ye wish to punish him by removing yerself from his presence for a time, eh?”
“Precisely, uncle. This is a lesson that Patrick Leslie must learn well, lest he be foolish enough to repeat the error. If I canna convince my husband that I am a loyal and faithful wife to him, there is little hope of our haeing a happy union. I canna think of anything worse than spending the rest of our lives suspicious of each other.
And,
Patrick's grandmother hae an equally thorny problem she solved in as strong a fashion.”
And,
Patrick's grandmother hae an equally thorny problem she solved in as strong a fashion.”
“How?” Angus asked.
“Her da made the error of turning over a piece of property belonging to her alone to her betrothed husband. She would nae wed her Glenkirk until he returned the property to her keeping. He thought to force her to the altar by gieing her a bairn in her belly. He thought she would weaken, but she ran away from him. The earl realized that his heir was in danger of being born on the wrong side of the blanket. But their differences were solved only when he returned her property. They were wed as she labored to bring forth her bairn. I canna do that, for I am already wed to my husband, but I know, uncle, that he has come to love me. He will suffer the loss of my company, and that is just what I want him to do.
“I will go to Brae on the pretext of restoring it, but I will find excuses to remain there. I will nae return until he apologizes to me for his terrible words. I canna hae him looking sideways at his firstborn, that nasty suspicion still lingering wi'in his heart and mind. Only when he is ready to tell me he is sorry for mistrusting me will I know my bairn is safe, that Patrick and I may live together in peace. I might hae run off, uncle, as my husband's grandmam did once, but Patrick will know where I am. He will just nae be able to leave Glenkirk and be wi' me. Only when he comes to me and apologizes will I come home,” Flanna finished.
“Ye'll take Aggie, of course,” Angus answered her.
“And Ian More, too. He's young, but there should be a man in charge to speak for me to the workers,” Flanna said.
“And if yer husband comes to drag ye back to Glenkirk?” Angus asked her. “He hae the right, ye know.”
“There are hidey holes at Brae that even ye dinna know about, uncle,” Flanna said with a wicked smile. “ 'Tis better that way,” she chuckled. “Ye canna get into difficulties wi' my lord,
or wi me.”
or wi me.”
“When will ye go?” he queried her.
“I must choose my time carefully,” Flanna said.
“Aye,” he agreed, “and I will hae to play the innocent after ye hae gone. Why, my lord, did ye nae promise her ladyship that she might renovate and refurbish Brae? Why, everyone at Glenkirk knew of it, for yer generosity hae made her so happy. And ye do want her happy now that she carries the heir to Glenkirk, do ye nae?” Angus chortled.
“Verra good, uncle,” Flanna said, laughing. Then she grew serious again. “Ye hae nae asked me the question my husband did.”
“I dinna hae to, lass. I know ye, and ye're an honorable woman,” Angus Gordon said.
Flanna hugged the big man, feeling wonderfully safe as he wrapped his arms about her and hugged back. It had always been that way since her childhood. Angus Gordon had always been a tower of strength, first for his beloved younger sister and, after her death, for his niece. “I love ye, uncle,” she told him.
He kissed the top of her head and replied, “Now, dinna get all soft on me, lass. Why, yer mam was the same when she carried ye.” But he was smiling, pleased, as he said the words.
“Now, may I hae my horse?” Flanna demanded.
“Tomorrow,” he promised her. “I'll want to go to Brae myself this morning and make certain 'tis habitable for ye, Flanna. And I'll see what needs doing so I can send the right men and supplies.”
“Verra well, uncle,” she agreed. “Today I'll sit by the fire, but only today.”
He chuckled as he departed the hall and went to the stables. There had been a time when his niece would have followed that earlier Glenkirk lady's path. Flaming Flanna would not have hesitated for a moment to cause her husband distress. This Flanna was different. She was more thoughtful.
Clever.
Willing to bide her time. He was grateful for it. Under normal circumstances, he would not have helped her in such a scheme, but he was outraged that Patrick Leslie had asked her if the child she carried was his or the king's. True, they had not been married for very long, but surely the duke had learned by now that his wife was a woman of honor. By inferring she was not, he had insulted not just the Brodies of Killiecairn, but the Gordons of Brae as well.
Clever.
Willing to bide her time. He was grateful for it. Under normal circumstances, he would not have helped her in such a scheme, but he was outraged that Patrick Leslie had asked her if the child she carried was his or the king's. True, they had not been married for very long, but surely the duke had learned by now that his wife was a woman of honor. By inferring she was not, he had insulted not just the Brodies of Killiecairn, but the Gordons of Brae as well.
Taking his horse, Angus Gordon rode out of the courtyard at Glenkirk, across the drawbridge, and into the forest beyond. The day was clear, and the air had a distinct spring warmth to it after the long winter. Finally reaching Loch Brae, he stopped his mount and stood gazing out across the waters at the old castle which had been built during the reign of John Balliol in the year 1295. Brae Castle was set upon an island within the small loch, connected to the shore by a wooden bridge. The bridge had a legend. The Gordon laird who had constructed Brae had also planned to build a fine stone bridge that would join the island with the mainland. His wife, however, had pointed out that a stone bridge would allow their enemies to march right up to the castle door. A wooden bridge could be burned in the event of an impending attack and restored afterward. So the then Gordon laird of Brae had taken his wife's counsel and built his bridge of wood.
Originally the area between the bridge and the castle had been kept in field so intruders could be easily spotted. But it had been well over twenty years since the castle had been inhabited. In what had long ago been an open terrain, dark green pines and graceful aspens now grew. The rocky shoreline of the island had once had a landing on its south side, but it was gone. But for an accident of birth, Brae would have been his, and he, its earl, Angus Gordon thought. But it was not, and he was not. Some men might have been bitter about such a twist of fate, but he was not. He had a good life and always had.
Riding around the loch, he finally stopped and, dismounting, tied his horse to a tree. Then he carefully picked his way across the rotting timbers of the span to the island. He considered whether the trees now dotting the field should be removed. Perhaps some of them, not all, but he would suggest to Flanna that she have four separate structures built, one at each corner of the island, to serve as watch towers. Angus walked through the great, open, ironbound oak doors into the castle courtyard. He peered at the hinges on the doors. They were still sound, but perhaps could use resetting.
The wooden stables had collapsed into a heap of rotting timbers. They would have to be rebuilt first. Angus climbed up the stone steps into the castle itself. Reaching behind a small stone cornice above the door he pulled down the iron key and, fitting it into the entry lock, turned it to open the door. Stepping inside, he stood for a moment remembering his childhood in the house. All was silence, but he could swear that he felt the shades of his ancestors wafting about Brae. He laughed to himself and then began his inspection. It was as he had suspected. Brae, built of stone, standing alone for over twenty years, had survived amazingly well. It was dusty and full of cobwebs, but it was intact.
Examining the structure to its attics, he found damage to the slate roof that would need to be repaired. The cellars were filthy and filled with all manner of stuff. They would have to be cleaned out. The hangings were salvageable, but would require beating to be free of dust. The furniture wanted polish. The floors needed to be washed and swept. The windows were black with grime, and the wooden shutters belonging to them, hanging in many cases.
He moved on to the kitchens. Bending down, he looked up the chimney. It, along with every chimney in the house, was going to need sweeping. Generations of birds and rodents had made their nests within those chimneys. He wondered if perhaps it was not too much work for Flanna to take on, but then, his niece was a strong girl. Having Brae to concern her would help to take away the sting of Patrick Leslie's ill-advised suspicions. A span of days away from his wife would undoubtedly give the Duke of Glenkirk time to consider his poorly chosen words. Angus Gordon returned to Glenkirk Castle to report to his niece on what he had found.
“Now,” he told her, “ 'tis up to ye to convince yer man that ye should go to Brae. It will nae be easy, Flanna.”
“I know,” she admitted. “I am still angry wi' him.”
“Then, wait a bit until yer anger hae cooled,” Angus advised.
“Nay,” she said.
Patrick Leslie came to his table that evening. His wife nodded coolly to him, but said nothing. The servants brought forth the meal. There was roasted venison, sliced salmon on a bed of fresh green watercress, a duck that had been roasted crisp, set in a pond of plum sauce, a rabbit stew with carrots, and leeks in a rich wine gravy. There was a dish of new green peas, fresh bread still warm from the ovens, two cheeses, cherry conserves and sweet butter. There was nothing served him that wasn't one of his favorites. Pears stewed in sweet wine, along with tiny sugar wafers, completed the meal. The duke ate with gusto, and when he had finally finished, his mood was mellow.
“Ye're still angry wi' me,” he noted, turning to Flanna.
“Aye,” she agreed calmly.
“Yet ye served me a fine dinner,” he noted.
“I dinna want to starve ye, and besides, I want a favor from ye, Patrick,” she told him boldly.
The duke cocked a thick black eyebrow at his wife.
“Ye promised me I might renovate Brae,” she began. “I want to go and do it before my bairn is born. I hae never before held my anger so in check, Patrick. If I am to cool that ire, I must be away from ye. Not for long, mind ye. I dinna intend following the example of yer grandmother Leslie, but I need to be by myself for a short time. Can ye understand that, Patrick?”
“My mam never left my da,” he complained.
“I am nae yer mam,” she said hotly, “and as I remember it, yer mam went all the way to France to escape yer da when he pressed her too closely. Can ye nae recall yer own family's history? I hae committed it to memory. The women in yer family were none of them weak. They were proud and gallant. There is nae one of them who would have suffered the insult that ye hae hurled at me, my lord.”
“Verra well,” he told her contritely. “If ye wish to go to Brae, then ye may go, Flanna.”
“Thank ye. I will take Aggie and Ian More wi' me. Angus felt it would be good to hae him wi' us. The bairns will remain here wi' ye so ye will nae be lonely. I dinna want their lives disrupted further, and they need their lessons, ye will agree. I am sure,” Flanna said.
“When will ye go?” he asked her. He didn't want her to go. He had been such a fool to accuse her of perfidy, but he had been angry that she had kept her news from him. The words had streamed from his mouth before he could contain them. Even as he said them, he had regretted them. He had no cause to suspect her of deceiving him.
“In a day or two,” she said quietly.
Damn him!
Why could he not apologize to her? Would his pride destroy their marriage? Their child could not come into this world safely until he admitted his fault. But there was time, Flanna told herself. The child would come sometime in August according to the calculations she and Una had made.
Damn him!
Why could he not apologize to her? Would his pride destroy their marriage? Their child could not come into this world safely until he admitted his fault. But there was time, Flanna told herself. The child would come sometime in August according to the calculations she and Una had made.
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