Highland Velvet

  Stephen didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Docile? Bronwyn! She has no idea what the word means She was standing to one side probably to judge whether to use a knife or that hell-hound dog of hers.”

  “Why should she do that?”

  “She’s a Scot, man! The Scots hate the English for burning their crops, raping their women, because the English are a damned, insufferable, arrogant lot of bastards who think they’re better than the honest, generous Scots, and—”

  “Wait a minute!” Gavin laughed. “The last I heard, you were an Englishman.”

  Stephen returned to his food, forcing himself to calm. “I guess I forgot for a moment.”

  Gavin leaned back in his chair and studied his brother. “From the length of your hair, I’d say you forgot some months ago.”

  “I wouldn’t criticize the Scots’ dress until you’ve tried it, if I were you,” Stephen snapped.

  Gavin put his hand on his brother’s arm. “What’s wrong? What is worrying you?”

  Stephen rose and walked toward the fireplace. “Sometimes I don’t know who I am anymore. When I went to Scotland, I knew I was a Montgomery, and I felt quite noble about my mission there. I was to teach the ignorant Scots our more civilized ways.”

  He ran his hand through his hair. “They aren’t ignorant, Gavin. Far from it. Lord, but what we could learn from them! We don’t even know the meaning of loyalty. That clan of Bronwyn’s would die for her, and damned if she won’t—and hasn’t—jeopardized her life for them. Their women sit in on their decision-making councils, and I’ve heard the women make damn good decisions.”

  “Like Judith,” Gavin said quietly.

  “Yes!” Stephen said loudly. “But she has to fight you for every inch.”

  “Of course,” Gavin answered firmly. “Women should—”

  Stephen’s laugh stopped him. “Somewhere along the way I stopped thinking ‘women should.’ ”

  “Tell me more about Scotland,” Gavin said, wanting to change the subject.

  Stephen sat down again, returned to the food. His voice sounded far away. “It’s a beautiful place.”

  “I heard it does little but rain.”

  Stephen waved his hand. “What’s a little rain to a Scot?”

  Gavin was thoughtful, watching his brother, hearing beyond his words. “Christopher Audley came by some time ago. Did he find you before your wedding?”

  Stephen pushed his food away. “Chris was killed in Scotland.”

  “How?”

  Stephen wondered how he could explain that Chris was killed in what, to a knight like Gavin, would be a dishonorable fight. “A cattle raid. Some of Bronwyn’s men were killed trying to protect him.”

  “Protect Chris? But he was an excellent fighter. His armor—”

  “Damn his armor!” Stephen snapped. “The man couldn’t run. He was, as Douglas said, trapped inside a steel coffin.”

  “I don’t understand. How?”

  Stephen was saved from answering by the door bursting open.

  Raine and Miles exploded into the room. Raine bounded across the floor, his footsteps jarring the windows. He lifted his older, but lighter, brother into a crushing embrace. “Stephen! We heard you were dead.”

  “He will be if you don’t release him,” Miles said calmly.

  Raine let up on some of the pressure he was exerting. “You’re still a skinny little thing,” he said smugly.

  Stephen grinned at his brother, then proceeded to push his arms out against Raine’s. He grinned more broadly as he felt Raine’s arms move. Stephen pushed harder and Raine applied more pressure. Raine lost.

  Stephen smiled at his brother in pure pleasure. There weren’t many men who could overpower Raine’s massive strength without resorting to a weapon. He offered silent thanks to Tam.

  Raine stepped away and grinned at his brother with pride. “Scotland seems to agree with you.”

  “Or else you’ve neglected your training,” Stephen said smugly.

  Raine’s dimples deepened. “Perhaps you’d like to test that.”

  “Here!” Miles said, stepping between his brothers. “Don’t let Raine kill you before I can welcome you home.” He embraced Stephen.

  “You’ve grown, Miles,” Stephen said, “and you’ve put on weight.”

  Gavin snorted. “It’s the women. Two of the cook’s helpers are trying to see which one can outcook the other.”

  “I see,” Stephen laughed. “And the prize is our baby brother?”

  Raine laughed. “What there is left of him after the other women have finished with him.”

  Miles ignored all of his brothers. He rarely smiled broadly, as his brothers did. He was a solemn man, and the emotion that he felt showed in his piercing gray eyes. Now he looked about the room. “James said your wife returned with you.”

  “Leave it to Miles,” Gavin laughed. “At least now I can have Judith to myself once in a while. Every time I look up, she’s with one of my worthless brothers.”

  “Gavin works her like a serf,” Raine said half seriously.

  Stephen smiled. It was good to be home again, to see Gavin and Raine arguing, to hear them teasing Miles. His brothers had changed little in the last few months. Raine, if anything, looked stronger and healthier, his love for the world carried openly. Miles still stood to one side, a part of the group yet separate. And Gavin drew them all together. Gavin was the solid one, the one who loved the earth. Where Gavin was, was home for the Montgomerys.

  “I’m not sure I’m ready for you to meet Bronwyn,” Stephen began.

  “Shy, is she?” Raine asked, concerned. “I hope you didn’t drag her all across England with you. Why didn’t we see your baggage wagons? Where are your men?”

  Stephen took a deep breath and laughed. They’d never believe him if he told the truth. “No, I wouldn’t exactly call Bronwyn shy,” he chuckled.

  Chapter Fourteen

  BRONWYN SAT UP TO HER NECK IN A TUB OF HOT, SOAPY water. A fire burned brightly in the big fireplace, making the room warm and fragrant. She relaxed in the tub and looked about her. The bedchamber was beautiful, from the beamed ceiling to the Spanish-tile floor. The walls were of white-painted wood with tiny rosebuds twining about the joints. The enormous canopied bed was hung with deep rose velvet. The chairs, benches, and cabinets in the room were all handsomely carved with tall, pointed arches.

  Bronwyn smiled and leaned back in the tub. It was pleasant to be in such luxury, even if at the same time she felt the money could have been spent for something else. She and Stephen had seen great poverty as they rode toward the Montgomery estate. For herself, she would have used the money on her people, but she knew the English were different.

  She closed her eyes and thought of the last few minutes. She smiled as she thought of the Judith she’d expected and the Judith she met. She’d expected a soft, sweet woman, but there was nothing soft about Judith. There wasn’t a servant who didn’t jump to do her bidding. Before Bronwyn was fully aware of what was happening, she had found herself undressed and in a tub. She hadn’t known it but the hot water was exactly what she needed.

  The door opened softly, and Judith entered. “Feeling better?” she asked.

  “Much. I had forgotten what it was like to be so pampered.”

  Judith grimaced and held out a large, warm towel for Bronwyn. “I’m afraid the Montgomery men are not ones for pampering their women. Gavin thinks nothing of asking me to ride with him through the worst of storms.”

  Bronwyn wrapped the towel around her body and looked at Judith carefully. “And what would you do if he bade you stay at home?” she asked quietly.

  Judith laughed warmly. “I would not stay at home. Gavin too often overlooks what he considers unimportant details, such as a steward stealing grain from the storehouses.”

  Bronwyn sat down before the fire and sighed. “I wish you could look at my account books. I’m afraid I too often neglect them.”

  Judith picked up an ivory comb a
nd began to untangle her sister-in-law’s freshly washed hair. “But you have more to consider than just the beans in a store-house. Tell me, what’s it like to be the laird of a clan, to have all those handsome young men obey your every wish?”

  Bronwyn exploded with laughter, both at Judith’s wistful tone and at the absurdity of the idea. She stood, slipped on a robe of Judith’s, and began to pull at the tangles in her hair. “It is a great responsibility,” she said seriously. “And as for my men obeying me…” She sighed and pulled some hair from the comb.

  “In Scotland we’re not like you are in England. Here women are treated as if they were different.”

  “As if we have no minds!” Judith said.

  “Yes, that’s true, but when men believe women are intelligent, they expect more from them.”

  “I don’t understand,” Judith answered.

  “My men do not obey me blindly. They question me every step of the way. In Scotland every man believes he is every other man’s equal. Stephen tells his men to saddle their horses and be ready to ride in an hour. His men don’t even question him.”

  “I’m beginning to understand,” Judith said. “Would your men want to know where they are going and why? If so, that could be quite…”

  “Infuriating at times,” Bronwyn finished for her. “There is a man, an older man, Tam, who watches my every move and comments on every decision I make. Then there are all of Tam’s sons, who contradict me at every opportunity. In truth, I make only the minor decisions. All the major ones are a joint effort.”

  “But what if you want something and they are against it? What do you do?”

  Bronwyn smiled slowly. “There are ways of getting around men, even ones who hover like eagles.”

  It was Judith’s turn to laugh. “Like the dairy! I couldn’t let Gavin build that awful one he’d drawn. I had the men work all night to get the foundations dug before he returned. I knew he was too frugal to have them torn out and too proud to admit I was right.”

  Bronwyn sat down on the bench beside her sister-in-law. “And to think that I dreaded meeting you. Stephen said…well, the way he described you made me think you were nothing more than a pretty, but lifeless, idiot.”

  “Stephen!” Judith laughed, then took Bronwyn’s hand. “I was the one who caused him to be late for your wedding. I was appalled when I found out he hadn’t even sent you a message to explain himself.” She hesitated a moment. “I heard it caused you some problems.”

  “Stephen Montgomery caused his own problems,” Bronwyn said flatly. “There are times when he can be the most arrogant, insufferable, infuriating—”

  “Fascinating man alive,” Judith said heavily. “Don’t tell me. I know all too well, since I’m married to one. But I wouldn’t trade Gavin for all the sweet-smelling, chivalrous men in the world. You must feel the same way about Stephen.”

  Bronwyn knew she needed to reply, but she had no idea what she meant to say.

  Suddenly Rab was on his feet, his tail wagging as he barked excitedly at the chamber door.

  Stephen entered and knelt as he scratched Rab’s ears. “You two look happy about something,” he said.

  “A moment’s peace and quiet has been a joy,” Bronwyn retorted.

  Stephen smiled at Judith. “While we’re here, perhaps you can sweeten her tongue. By the way, there’s a man downstairs raving something about some dresses.”

  “Wonderful!” Judith declared and practically ran from the room.

  “What was that all about?” Stephen asked, rising and walking toward his wife. He lifted a damp curl from her breast. “You look as enticing as a fresh spring morning.”

  She pulled away from him and looked back at the fire.

  “Bronwyn, you still aren’t angry about what happened at Hugh’s, are you?”

  She turned to face him. “Angry?” she asked coldly. “No, I’m not angry. I was merely foolish, that’s all.”

  “Foolish?” he asked, putting his hand on her shoulder. He didn’t mind her rages or even when she took a knife to him nearly as much as he was distressed by this coldness of hers. “How were you foolish?”

  She turned to face him. “I had begun to believe that there could be something between us.”

  “Love?” he asked, his eyes bright, a smile beginning to curve his lips. “It’s not wrong to admit you love me.”

  She curled her lip at him and pushed his hand away. “Love!” she said angrily. “I’m talking about more important things than love between a man and a woman. I’m talking of trust and loyalty and the faith one person must have in another.”

  He frowned at her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I thought love was what most women wanted.”

  She sighed in exasperation, and her voice was quiet when she spoke. “When are you going to learn that I am not ‘most women’? I am Bronwyn, the MacArran, and I am unique. Perhaps most women do think love is the major goal of their lives, but I have love. My men love me, Tam loves me. I have friendships with the women of my clan and now even Kirsty, a MacGregor.”

  “And where do I fit into this?” Stephen asked, his jaw set.

  “I’m sure we do love each other, in our own way. I cared for you when Davey’s arrow wounded you, and you often exhibit that you care for me.”

  “Thank you for small favors,” he said grimly. “And here I thought you’d be pleased to hear that I love you.”

  She looked at him sharply and felt her heart jump at his words, but she wouldn’t tell him so. “I want more than love. I want something that will last past my smooth skin and my narrow waist.” She paused for a moment. “I want respect. I want honor and trust. I do not want to be accused of being a liar, nor do I want your jealousy. As the MacArran, I must live in a world of men, and I do not want a husband who accuses me of all manner of dishonorable things when I am out of his sight.”

  A muscle in Stephen’s jaw worked. “So! I am to stand by and watch man after man touch you and say nothing?”

  “I do not believe there has been more than one man. You should have reasoned that there was a purpose behind my actions.”

  “Reasoned! Damn you, Bronwyn! How can I think when someone else touches you?”

  Rab’s bark kept her from replying.

  The door opened a crack. “Is it safe?” Judith asked, watching Rab.

  “Come, Rab,” Bronwyn commanded as Judith entered. “He won’t hurt you unless you come at me with a weapon.”

  “I’ll remember that,” Judith laughed and held out her arms. Across them lay a gown of deep, rich dark brown velvet, embroidered all over with heavy gold thread. “For you,” she said. “Let’s see if it fits.”

  “How…?” Bronwyn began as she held the luscious gown up to her.

  Judith smiled secretly. “There’s an awful little man who works for Gavin; Gavin was always locking him in the cellar for all manner of…indiscretions. I decided to use the man’s talents. I gave him a bag of silver, told him how tall you were, and told him to get me a gown worthy of a lady.”

  “It’s beautiful,” Bronwyn whispered, running her hands over the velvet. “You’ve been so kind to me, made me feel so welcome.”

  Judith was staring at Stephen, who had his back to them. She put her hand on his shoulder. “Stephen, are you all right? You look tired.”

  He tried to smile at her and absently kissed her hand. “Perhaps I am.” He turned to Bronwyn. “My brothers would like to meet you,” he said formally. “I would be honored if you’d visit with us.” He turned and left the room.

  Judith didn’t ask about what had happened between the newlyweds. She only wanted to make their visit as free of strife as possible. “Come and I’ll help you dress. Tomorrow you should be able to try on the new clothes I’ve ordered for you.”

  “New…? You shouldn’t have done that.”

  “But I did, so the least you can do is enjoy them. Now let’s see if this fits.”

  It was hours later when Bronwyn was dressed and groome
d to Judith’s satisfaction. Judith said she’d learned many tricks while she was at court, a place she never cared to visit again. She liked Bronwyn’s Scots way of leaving her hair free so much that she discarded her own hood and let her rich auburn hair flow down her back. Judith wore a gown of violet satin, the sleeves and hem trimmed in dark brown mink. A gold belt set with purple amethysts was about her waist.

  Bronwyn smoothed the velvet over her hips. The dress was heavy and confining, but today she liked it. The low, square neckline showed her full breasts to advantage. The puffed sleeves were slashed to pull through tissue-thin cloth of gold. She straightened her shoulders and went down the stairs to meet her brothers-in-law.

  The four men stood side by side in front of the stone fireplace in the winter parlor, and both Bronwyn and Judith paused for a moment to look at them with pride.

  Stephen had trimmed his long hair and discarded his Scots clothes, and Bronwyn felt a sudden pang of loss for the Highlander he’d been. He wore a coat of dark blue velvet, collared with rich sable. His heavy, muscular legs were encased in dark blue wool hose.

  Gavin dressed in gray, his coat lined with gray squirrel fur. Raine wore black velvet, the collar embroidered with silver thread worked in an intricate Spanish design. Miles’s coat was of emerald-green velvet, the sleeves cut and slashed to reveal silver tissue beneath. There were pearls sewn onto his shirt sleeves.

  Miles was the first to turn and see the women. He set his silver wine chalice on the mantelpiece and went forward. He stopped in front of Bronwyn, his eyes darkening almost to black—a hot black fire. He dropped to one knee before her. “I am honored,” he whispered in great reverence, his head bowed.

  Bronwyn looked at the others in consternation.

  Judith smiled with pride at her sister-in-law. “May I introduce Miles?”

  Bronwyn held out her hand, and Miles took it, and kissed it lingeringly.

  “You’ve made your point, Miles,” Stephen said sarcastically.

  Gavin laughed and slapped Stephen on the shoulder so hard his wine sloshed onto his hand. “Now I have someone to help me with our baby brother,” Gavin said. “Lady Bronwyn, may I introduce myself more formally? I am Gavin Montgomery.”