Page 22 of Highland Velvet


  “I’m not cold,” she said honestly as she kept herself from smiling at Hugh’s blue nose. “I merely wish to…” She looked down at her hands in confusion.

  “Of course!” he said in embarrassment. “I will send a guard—”

  “No! I have Rab, and I’m sure I can find my way.”

  “Your wish is my command,” he smiled, then kissed her hand again.

  Bronwyn had to control herself from running inside the house. She wanted to do nothing to make Hugh suspicious. Once inside, though, she knew the need to hurry. “Rab,” she commanded, “find Stephen.”

  Rab raced up the stairs in a spurt of joy. All morning he’d been straining against Bronwyn’s commands. The dog stopped before a door she suspected was Hugh’s. He sniffed and danced about until he took off up some stairs, Bronwyn lifting her heavy skirts and running after him.

  At the top of the third flight of stairs was a heavy oak door, its window set with iron bars. Rab jumped up, his forefeet at the window. He barked twice in recognition.

  “Rab!” came Stephen’s voice.

  “Get down!” Bronwyn commanded. “Stephen, are you all right? Why are you being held prisoner?” She held her hand out to him, grabbed his through the bars.

  He took her hand in both of his, stared at her. “Is this the hand you’ve let Hugh kiss so often?” he asked coldly.

  “This is no time for one of your jealousy attacks. Why are you being held prisoner? And what is that absurd celebration about?”

  “Absurd?” Stephen sputtered, tossing her hand back through the bars. “You didn’t look like you weren’t enjoying yourself. Tell me, do you find Hugh attractive? A lot of women do.”

  She stared at him, patted Rab who was nervous because his master was being held captive. Her mind was racing. “This isn’t serious at all, is it?” she asked quietly. “This is some sort of game between you and your friend.”

  “It’s not a game when my wife is involved,” he said fiercely.

  “Damn you, Stephen Montgomery!” she hissed. “I told you not to come here. No, you think you’re so superior. Now I want to know what’s going on and how to get you out of here, though I have no idea why I want you out.”

  Stephen narrowed his eyes at her. “If you give in to Hugh and let him win, I’ll break your neck.”

  She was beginning to understand. “Do you mean that I am being used in some sort of wager? What is he supposed to win?”

  When Stephen didn’t speak, she answered for him. “I think I can guess. Hugh thinks he can woo me to his bed, and you believe him. Did it ever enter that swollen, vain, pea brain of yours that I might have some say in this? Do you think I am so mindless that any man who smiles at me and kisses my hand can have me in his bed? You should know I’d take a knife to him at the least. Rab growls every time Hugh touches me.”

  “Which seems to be often from what I can see.”

  Bronwyn noticed the window in the far side of the cell. So that’s why Hugh refused to turn the pavilion. He wanted Stephen to be able to see them together. She looked at Stephen’s cold, angry face, and she began to get angry too. Those two men were using her in some childish prank that was more suited to ten-year-olds. Hugh had said he could win Bronwyn to his bed, and Stephen obviously thought so little of her morals and integrity that he believed she could be won by any man who set himself to the task. And Hugh! He insulted her, treated her as if she were stupid, yet had every confidence that she’d succumb to his charms.

  “Damn both of you!” she whispered before turning away.

  “Bronwyn! Come back here!” Stephen commanded. “Tell Hugh you know of the plot and get the key from him.”

  She looked back at him and gave him her sweetest smile. “And miss the entertainment Sir Hugh has planned for me?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows. She started down the stairs, her mouth set against the string of curses Stephen yelled after her. “Damn the both of them,” she repeated to herself.

  Chapter Thirteen

  BRONWYN WAS STILL FUMING WHEN SHE REACHED THE foot of the stairs. Sir Hugh waited for her, an impatient look on his face. He looked as if he might chastise her for tarrying too long. Her first impulse was to lecture him about what he was trying to do, but the thought vanished as quickly as it came. Englishmen! she thought. When she’d first met Stephen, he knew there was no way but the English way. He laughed at her when she asked him to wear the Scots dress instead of the heavy English armor. Now she doubted if she could get him into one of Sir Hugh’s heavy, padded jackets. But Stephen had had to go through a battle before he was willing to change.

  Perhaps she could wage her own battle, and both or these Englishmen could learn something that every Scotsman knew—that women were quite capable of thinking on their own.

  “I was beginning to worry about you,” Sir Hugh said, extending his hand.

  Bronwyn widened her eyes innocently. “I hope you don’t mind but I was looking about your house. It is magnificent! Tell me, is all this yours?”

  Sir Hugh took her arm and tucked it under his. His chest expanded visibly. “All of it and about seven hundred acres. Of course, I have another estate in the south.”

  She sighed heavily. “Stephen,” she began shyly, “Stephen doesn’t have a place such as this, does he?”

  Hugh frowned. “Why, no. He does own some land somewhere, I believe, and it has an old tower on it but not a house. But surely your own estates…”

  Again she sighed. “But they’re in Scotland.”

  “Oh, yes, of course. I understand. It’s a cold, wet country, isn’t it? No wonder you want to live here Well, perhaps Stephen—” He broke off.

  She smiled to herself. It was just as she thought. Hugh wasn’t really interested in her, or at least he wouldn’t actually dishonor his friend; he was merely bored and wanted to see Stephen fume. He mentioned his friend too often to be a true enemy. Stephen thought she could be enticed into any attractive man’s bed, and Hugh merely used her as a means to antagonize his friend. Neither man considered her wants or thoughts.

  She smiled more broadly as she began to wonder what would happen if she upset their plans somewhat. What would Sir Hugh say if she told him she was discontent with Stephen and that she would love to stay in England with a fine, handsome man like Hugh?

  As they approached the pavilion she looked skyward. “I think the sun is about to shine. Perhaps we could move our chairs from under the canopy.”

  Sir Hugh smiled at her suggestion, then ordered the chairs brought forth.

  Bronwyn ordered them set closer together, then smiled at Hugh’s frown. She wasted no time once they were seated. Musicians played a sweet love song, but she never looked at them; she had eyes only for Hugh “You have no wife, my lord?” she asked quietly.

  “No…not as yet. I have not been as fortunate as my friend Stephen.”

  “Is he really your friend? Could you possibly be my friend also?”

  Hugh looked deeply into her eyes, fearing that he’d lose himself in them. Stephen was indeed fortunate. “Of course, you are my friend,” he said in a fatherly manner.

  She sighed, moistened her lips and parted them. “I can tell you are a sensitive, intelligent man. I wish I had a husband such as you.” She smiled becomingly at the way his jaw dropped. “You must know about my marriage. I had no choice in the matter. I tried to choose someone else but…Lord Stephen.”

  Hugh stiffened his back. “I heard that Stephen had to fight for you, and he did a damn good job of it too. I heard that Chatworth came at his back.”

  “Oh, yes, Stephen is a good fighter, but he isn’t now can I say it? He doesn’t content me.”

  Hugh’s eyes widened. “Are you saying that Stephen Montgomery is lacking in some way? Let me tell you that we’ve been friends all our lives. And as for his women!” He was starting to get angry now. “When we were in Scotland together, Stephen was half in love with a little whore, and he was blind to the fact that she was sleeping with half the troops. I paid her t
o go to bed with me at a time when I knew he’d see us together.”

  “Is that why he is so angry with you?” she asked forgetting for a moment to use her honey-coated voice

  “He never would have believed me if I’d told him what she was. He couldn’t see past her dimples.”

  Bronwyn drew back as she digested this news. So. Stephen was using her in a scheme to repay a man for taking one of his women. A woman he was half in love with! She felt a sharp pain through her breast, and burning tears gathered behind her eyes. He hadn’t wanted to marry her because he’d been in love with a dimpled whore.

  “Lady Bronwyn, are you all right?”

  She touched her eye with her knuckle. “Something in my eye, I think.”

  “Here, let me see.” He took her face in his large, strong hands, and Bronwyn looked up at him.

  She knew Stephen was watching, and it crossed her mind to wonder if he was thinking of the woman he had wanted.

  “I see nothing,” Sir Hugh said, his hands never leaving her face. “You are an incredibly beautiful woman,” he whispered. “Stephen is—”

  She twisted away from him. “I don’t want to hear that name again,” she said angrily. “Today I’m free of him, and I want to remain so. Perhaps the musicians could spare some room for us and we could dance. I could show you some Scottish dances.”

  He gave a nervous look upward toward his house, then allowed himself to be pulled toward the wooden platform.

  Sir Hugh didn’t know when he’d been so entertained. He wasn’t used to seeing a woman’s hair flowing freely about her lithe body. Bronwyn’s eyes flashed and laughed as he awkwardly tried to copy her intricate steps. The cold day seemed to grow warmer, and he forgot about her husband watching from above.

  “Bronwyn,” he laughed, having dropped the formal “Lady” an hour before, “I have to stop! I fear I have a stitch in my side.”

  She laughed at him. “You’d no’ make a good Scotsman if you can stand so little exercise.”

  He took her arm. “I haven’t worked so hard since I spent a week in training with the Montgomery brothers.”

  “Yes,” she said as she sat down. “Stephen does train hard.” Her expression became serious.

  “He’s a good man,” Hugh said as he took a piece of cheese from a tray a servant held for him.

  “Perhaps,” she said, drinking deeply of warm, spiced wine.

  “I envy him.”

  “Do you?” she asked, her eyes searching his. “May-haps you could replace him…in some ways.” She watched with interest as Hugh began to take her meaning. The vain peacock! she thought. It never occurred to him—to any man—that he wasn’t God’s gift to women.

  “Lady Bronwyn,” he said formally. “I must talk seriously with you. About Stephen—”

  “What was he like as a child?” she asked, cutting him off.

  Hugh was obviously startled. “Serious, like Gavin. All the brothers grew up in a world of men. Perhaps if Stephen is awkward, it’s because he knows very little about women.”

  “So unlike you,” she purred.

  Hugh smiled in a confident way. “I have had some experience, and I’m sure that’s why you’re…attracted to me. You’ve been married to Stephen so short a time. I’m sure that in years to come you’ll grow…fond of one another.”

  “Is that what you want from life? Fondness?”

  “I am a different man than Stephen,” he said smugly.

  Bronwyn smiled at him as a plan began to form in her mind. “Not long ago, while we were in Scotland, Stephen and I stayed with some farmers. One of the women made a delicious drink from some lichens. When we rode into your estate, I saw some growing near the rocks. I thought perhaps we could take a walk and collect them. I’d like to make the drink for you.”

  Hugh looked worried for a moment, then nodded in agreement. He didn’t like the way the events were happening. It almost looked as if Stephen’s wife wanted to betray her husband. Hugh wanted to report that Bronwyn could not be won by another man, but she seemed to be showing a preference for Hugh.

  As they walked Hugh began to talk of Stephen, what an honorable man he was, how worthy he was of a woman of Bronwyn’s standing. He spoke of how generous Stephen was in wearing that ridiculous Scots dress.

  Bronwyn said very little as she gathered lichens and the dried heads of flowers in the little basket Hugh had given her. She listened carefully and said nothing.

  It began to rain again when they returned to the house. Sir Hugh was very formal as he led her upstairs to a private solar. A servant brought hot wine and mugs so Bronwyn could prepare the drinks. As she carefully mixed and stirred the ingredients she watched Hugh, his thick chest puffed out, his mouth smug in his belief that he was being noble in refusing Bronwyn’s advances.

  “My lord,” she said quietly, handing him the warm mug. Her hand touched his caressingly for a moment. She smiled as he declared the drink delicious and drained his cup then asked for more.

  “I need to talk to you,” he said seriously, sipping from the second mug of the hot liquid. “I mustn’t let you leave here believing as you do.”

  “And what do I believe?” she asked sweetly.

  “Stephen is my friend, has always been my friend. I just hope he will be my friend after this.”

  “And why should he not?”

  “I guess that depends upon you. You must never mention your…your attraction to me.”

  “My attraction to you?” she asked innocently. She took a chair across from him. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “Oh, come now, my lady. You and I both know what’s been happening between us today. All women know about affairs of the heart.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “All women? Pray tell me what else all women know?”

  “Don’t turn coy on me!” he snapped. “I’m not so innocent about women as Stephen Montgomery is. Perhaps you’ll be able to persuade him that you don’t look at other men, and since he is my friend I will back your story, but don’t try to play innocent with me.”

  “I am caught!” she said, smiling. “You know so much about women and about your friend that I have no means of escape.”

  Hugh started to speak, but a sudden pain shot through his gut and he closed his mouth.

  “Here, let me refill your cup. You look pale.”

  Hugh grabbed the cup, drained it. He was out of breath when he recovered. “The fish must have been bad,” he said, then dismissed the subject. “Where was I?”

  “You were telling me how I was ready to leave my husband for you.”

  “You stretch my words,” he said. “I—”

  Bronwyn slammed the empty pitcher down on a table, and the glaze on the pottery crackled. “No! Let me tell you!” She stood over him, hands on her hips. “You say you are Stephen’s friend, yet you play a childish trick on him and lock him where he can see you play the fool over his wife.”

  “Fool! You did not think I was a fool today.”

  “You think you can read my thoughts? Are you so vain that you think I can spend months in Stephen Montgomery’s bed and yet be unsatisfied?”

  “You said—”

  “You were certainly ripe for believing anything you wanted. You act as if you did something noble in paying that whore to go to bed with you. You think you did Stephen a favor, but I wonder if you were just jealous. Every man in camp had to pay for her—all except one: my Stephen!”

  “Your Stephen!” Hugh began, starting to rise, but another pain cut through him. He looked up in horror. “You poisoned me.”

  She smiled. “Not poison really, but you’ll be quite ill for several days. I want you to remember today for a long time.”

  “Why?” he whispered, grabbing his stomach. “What have I done to you?”

  “Nothing,” she said seriously. “Absolutely nothing. I have been used to Englishmen too long to stand it another time. You used me to play a game with Stephen. It never occurred to you that I might have some thought in the matt
er. I could see it last night while Stephen played the lute. You were so sure of yourself, that any woman would want you.”

  Hugh doubled in pain. “You bitch!” he gasped. “Stephen is welcome to you.”

  “I’m a bitch because I decided to be more than a pawn in your little games? Remember, Sir Hugh, there’s only one female on the chessboard, and she is the most versatile, most powerful piece.” She bent and slipped the key from his doublet pocket before she turned away.

  “Stephen saw you. He will never believe you weren’t hot for me.”

  Her back stiffened. “Contrary to your thoughts of him, Stephen Montgomery is the most sane, intelligent man I have ever met.” She paused at the door. “Oh, yes, and Sir Hugh, the next time you need help with your women, I’d advise you to ask for Stephen’s advice. As far as I can tell, there’s very little he doesn’t know.” She left the room.

  Rab was waiting for her outside Hugh’s door, and together they ran up the stairs to the room where Stephen was held. She looked through the barred door and saw Stephen glowering at her. The anger and hatred in his eyes made a chill run along her spine. She thrust the key into the lock and opened the door.

  “You are free now,” she said quietly. “It is still daylight, and we can ride toward your brother’s estate.”

  Stephen sat silently, his eyebrows drawn together.

  She walked close to him, put out her hand, and touched a curl of hair along his collar. “It would be better if you spoke about your anger.”

  He pushed her hand away. “Do you dare come to me directly from him? You wear a gown he gave you, the one you flaunted yourself in in front of him. Did he enjoy it? Did he enjoy the sight of the upper half of you bare?”

  She sighed and sat down on the window seat. “Hugh said you’d not believe me innocent after what you’d seen.”

  “Hugh, is it?” Stephen growled and raised both his fists toward her, but then he dropped then helplessly at his side. “You have repaid me in full for marrying you. You waited long enough to have your revenge.” He sat down heavily on a stool, ignoring Rab who nuzzled against him. “On our wedding night that knife of yours should have found my heart.”